our writings (if you will excufe two Latin words) come nearest to what Tully means by his Prefa Oratio. They are all weight and fubftance, good measure preffed together, and running over in a redundancy of fenfe, and not of words. And therefore the purity of our language confifts in preferving this character, in writing with the English ftrength and fpirit: let us not envy others, that they are more foft, and diffufe and rarified; be it our commendation to write as we pay, in true Sterling; if we want fupplies, 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 alloy; and let me leave this cenfure with you, That he who corrupteth the purity of the English tongue with the most specious foreign words and phrafes, is juft as wife as thofe modifh 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 Plainnefs and Perfpicuity.

After this regard to the purity of our language, the next quality of a juft ftyle, is its plainnefs 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 fee into the fcope and tendency of his thoughts, as we read him. All obfcurity of expreffion, and darkness of fenfe, 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 matter he undertakes to treat of, be his ftyle never fo plain as to the words he uses, it never can be clear; and if his thoughts upon this fubject be never fo juft and diftinét, unless he has a ready command of words, and a faculty of eafy writing in plain obvious expreffions, the words will perplex the fenfe, and cloud the clearness of his thoughts.

It is the unhappiness of fome, that they are not able to exprefs themselves clearly: their heads are crowded with a multiplicity of undigefted knowledge, which lies confuf d in the brain, without any order or diftinction. 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 againf plainnefs and perfpicuity of ftyle, is an af fectation of hard unufual words, and of cloft contracted periods: the faults of pedants and fententious writers; that are vainly c tentatious of their learning, or their wil dom. Hard words and quaint expreffions are abominable: wherever you meet fuch a writer, throw him afide for a coxcomb, Some authors of reputation have used a short and concife way of expreffion, I must own; and if they are not fo clear, as others, the fault is to be laid on the brevity they labour after: for while we ftudy to be concife, we can hardly avoid being obfcure. We crowd our thoughts into too fmall a compass, and are fo fparing of our words, that we will not afford enow to exprefs our meaning.

There is another extreme in obfcure writers, not much taken notice of, which fome empty conceited heads are apt to ren into out of a prodigality of words, and a want of fenfe. This is the extravagance cí your copious writers, who lose their mearing in the multitude of words, and buy their fenfe under heaps of phrafes. Ther understanding is rather rarified than condenfed: their meaning, we cannot fay, is dark and thick; it is too light and fubtle to be difcerned: it is spread fo thin, and diffufed fo wide, that it is hard to be collected. Two lines would exprefs all they fay in two pages: 'tis nothing but whipt fyllabub and froth, a little varnish and gilding, wit out any folidity or fubftance.

Ibid.

$96. On the Decorations and Ornaments of Style.

The deepest rivers have the plaineft furface, and the purest waters are always cleareft. Chryftal is not the lefs folid for being tranfparent; the value of a Ryle rifes like the value of precious ftones. 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 fee I have borrowed fome metaphors to explain my thoughts; and it is, I believe, impoffible to defcribe the plainnefs and clearness of ftyle, without fome expreffions clearer than the terms I am otherwife bound up to use.

You must give me leave to go on with you to the decorations and ornaments of ftyle: there is no inconfiftency between the plainneís and perfpicuity, and the or nament of writing. A tyle refembleth

beauty,

beauty, where the face is clear and plain as to fymmetry and proportion, but is capable of wonderful improvements, as to features and complexion. If I may tranf grefs in too frequent allufions, because I would make every thing plain to you, I would pafs on from painters to fatuaries, whofe excellence it is at firft to form true and just proportions, and afterwards to give them that foftnefs, 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 exprefs the paffions and motions of our minds in our fpeech; to give life and ornament, grace and beauty, to our expreffions. I fhall not undertake the rhetorician's province, in giving you an account of all the figures they have invented, and thofe feveral ornaments of writing, whofe grace and commendation lie in being used with judgment and propriety. It were endless to pursue this fubjeft through all the fchemes and illuftrations of fpeech: but there are fome common forms, which every writer upon every fubject may use, to enliven and adorn his work.

Thefe are metaphor and fimilitude; and thofe images and reprefentations, 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 thefe, your ordinary writers are moft apt to offend. Images are very fparingly to be introduced: their proper place is in poems and orations; and their use is to move pity or terror, admiration, compaffion, anger and refentment, by representing fomething very affectionate or very dreadful, very aftonishing, very miserable, or very provoking, to our thoughts. They give a wonderful force and beauty to the fubject, where they are painted by a mafterly hand; but if they are either weakly drawn, or unfkilfully placed, they raife no Faffion but indignation in the reader.

Felton. $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 mcft familiar and best known particulars

in the world: if any thing is dark and obfcure in them, the purpote of ufing 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 courfe of fimilitudes, confounding their fubject by the multitude of likenefies; and making it like fo 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 fubject to every thing, he knoweth not what it is like.

There is another tedious fault in fome fimile men; which is, drawing their comparifons into a great length and minute particulars, where it is of no importance whether the refemblance holds or not. But the true art of illuftrating any fubject by fimilitude, is, firft to pitch on fuch 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 ftrongest lines and the nearest likeness. And this will fecure us from all stiffness and formality in fimilitude, and deliver us from the naufeous repetition of as and jo, which fome fo fo writers, if I may beg leave to call them fo, are continually founding in our ears.

I have nothing to fay to thofe gentlemen who bring fimilitudes and forget the refemblance. All the pleafure we can take when we meet thefe promifing fparks, is in the difappointment, where we find their fancy is fo like their fubject, that it is not like at all.

$98. On Metaphors.

Ibid.

Metaphors require great judgment and confideration in the ufe of them. They are a shorter fimilitude, where the likeness is rather implied than expreffed. The fignification 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 refemblance, fome original likeness in nature, fome correfpondence and easy tranfition, or metaphors are shocking and contufed.

The beauty of them difplays itself in their eafinefs 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 courfe of thought, but are conftrained and prefied into the fervice, instead of making the ditFf3

courfe

courfe more lively and chearful, they make it fullen, dull, and gloomy.

You must form your judgment upon the beft models and the moft celebrated pens, where you will find the metaphor in all its grace and ftrength, fhedding a luftre and beauty on the work. For it ought never to be used but when it gives greater force to the fentence, an illuftration to the thought, and infinuates a filent argument in the allufion. The ufe of metaphors is not only to convey the thought in a more pleafing manner, but to give it a ftronger impreffion, and enforce it on the mind. Where this is not regarded, they are vain and trifling trash; and in a due obfervance of this, in a pure, chafte, natural expreffion, confift the juftnefs, beauty, and delicacy of ftyle. Felton.

$99. On Epithets.

I have faid nothing of Epithets. Their bufinefs is to exprefs the nature of the things they are applied to; and the choice of them depends upon a good judgment, to diftinguish what are the moft proper titles to be given on all occafions, and a complete knowledge in the accidents, qualities, and affections of every thing in the world. They are of most ornament when they are of ufe: they are to determine the character of every perfon, and decide the merits of every caufe; confcience and juftice are to be regarded, and great fkill and exactnefs are required in the ufe of them. For it is of great importance to call things by their right names: the points of fatire, and strains of compliment depend upon it: otherwife we may make an afs of a lion, commend a man in fatire, and lampoon him in panegyric. Here alfo there is room for genius: common juftice and judgment fhould direct us to fay what is proper at leaft; but it is parts and fire that will prompt us to the moft lively and moft forcible epithets that can be applied; and 'tis in their energy and propriety their beauty lies. Ibid.

$100. On Allegories. Allegories I need not mention, because they are not fo much any ornament of ftyle, as an artful way of recommending truth to the world in a borrowed shape, and a drefs more agreeably to the fancy, than naked truth herself can be. Truth is ever most beautiful and evident in her native drefs and the arts that are used to convey her to our minds, are no argument

There is one ingredient more required to the perfection of ftyle, which I have partly mentioned already, in fpeaking of the fuitableness of the thoughts to the fubject, and of the words to the thoughts; but you will give me leave to confider it in another light, with regard to the majesty and dignity of the fubject.

It is fit, as we have faid already, that the thoughts and expreffions fhould be fuited to the matter on all occafions; but in nobler and greater fubjects, especially where the theme is facred and divine, it must be our care to think and write up to the dignity and majefty of the things we prefume to treat of: nothing little, mean, or low, no childish thoughts, or boy expreffions, will be endured: all must be awful and grave, and great and folemt. The nobleft fentiments must be conveyed in the weighticft words: all ornaments and illuftrations must be borrowed from the richest parts of univerfal nature; and in divine fubjects, especially when we attempt to fpeak of God, of his wifden, goodnefs, and power, of his mercy and juftice, of his difpenfations and providence (by all which he is pleafed to manifut himself to the fons of men) we must rai our thoughts, and enlarge our minds, and fearch all the treasures of knowledge for every thing that is great, wonderful, and magnificent: we can only express our thoughts of the Creator in the works c his creation; and the brightest of there can only give us fome faint fhadows of his greatnefs and his glory. The ftronge figures are too weak, the most exalted language too low, to exprefs his ineffable excellence. No hyperbole can be brought to heighten our thoughts; for in fo fublim a theme, nothing can be hyperbolical.

The riches of imagination are poor, ar all the rivers of eloquence are dry, i fupplying thought on an infinite fubje How poor and mean, how bafe and grovelling, are the Heathen conceptions of the Deity! fomething fublime and noble m needs be faid on fo great an occafions but in this great article, the moft celebrated of the Heathen pens feem to

and fink; they bear up in no proportion to the dignity of the theme, as if they were depreffed by the weight, and dazzled with the fplendour of the fubject.

We have no inftances to produce of any writers that rife at all to the majefty and dignity of the Divine Attributes except the facred penmen. No lefs than Divine Infpiration could enable men to write worthily of God, and none but the Spirit of God knew how to exprefs his greatnefs, and display his glory: in comparison of thefe divine writers, the greatest geniufes, the nobleft wits of the Heathen world, are low and dull. The fublime majesty and royal magnificence of the fcripture poems are above the reach, and beyond the power of all moral wit. Take the best and livelieft poems of antiquity, and read them as we do the fcriptures, in a profe tranflation, and they are flat and poor. Horace, and Virgil, and Homer, lofe their fpirits and their ftrength in the transfufion, to that degree, that we have hardly patience to red them. But the facred writings, even in our tranflation, preferve their majefty and their glory, and very far furpafs the b.ightest and nobleft compofitions of Greece and Rome. And this is not owing to the richness and folemnity of the caftern eloquence (for it holds in no other inftance) but to the divine direction and affiftance of the holy writers. For, let me only mike this remark, that the most literal tranflation of the fcriptures, in the most natural fignification of the words, is generally the best; and the fame punctualnefs, which debafes other writings, preferves the fpirit and majefty of the facred text: it can fuffer no improvement from human wit; and we may obferve that those who have prefumed to heighten the expreffions by a poetical tranflation or paraphrafe, have funk in the attempt; and all the decorations of their verfe, whether Greek or Latin, have not been able to reach the dignity, the majesty, and folemnity of our profe: fo that the profe of fcripture cannot be improved by verfe, and even the divine poetry is moft like itfelf in profe. One oblervation more I would leave with you: Milton himself, as great a genius as he was, owes his fuperiority over Homer and Virgil, in majefty of thought and fplendour of expreffion, to the fcriptures: they are the fountain from which he derived his light; the facred treasure that enriched his fancy, and furnished him with all the truth and wonders of God and his

creation, of angels and men, which no mortal brain was able either to discover or conceive: and in him, of all human writers, you will meet all his fentiments and words raifed and fuited to the greatnefs and dignity of the fubject.

I have detained you the longer on this majefty of ftyle, being perhaps myself carried away with the greatnefs and pleafure of the contemplation. What I have dwelt fo much on with respect to divine fubje&s, is more eafily to be obferved with reference to human: for in all things below divinity, we are rather able to exceed than fall fhort; and in adorning all other fubjects, our words and fentiments may rife in a just proportion to them: nothing is above the reach of man, but heaven; and the fame wit can raife a human fubject, that only debases a divine. Felton.

$102. Rules of Order and Proportion. After all thefe excellencies of style, in purity, in plainnefs and perfpicuity, iu ornament and majefty, are confidered, a finished piece of what kind foever must fhine in the order and proportion of the whole; for light rifes out of order, and beauty from proportion. In architecture and painting, thefe fill and relieve the eye. A juft difpofition gives us a clear view of the whole at once; and the due fymmetry and proportion of every part in itself, and of all together, leave no vacancy in our thoughts or eyes; nothing is wanting, every thing is complete, and we are fatisfied in beholding.

But when I fpeak of order and proportion, I do not intend any ftiff and formal method, but only a proper diftribution of the parts in general, where they follow in a natural courfe, and are not confounded with one another. Laying down a fcheme, and marking out the divifions and subdivifions of a difcourfe, are only neceffary in fyftems, and fome pieces of controverfy and argumentation: you fee, however, that I have ventured to write without any declared order; and this is allowable, where the method opens as you read, and the order difcovers itself in the progrefs of the fubject; but certainly, of all pieces that were ever written in a profeffed and ftated method, and diftinguished by the number and fucceffion of their parts, our English fermons are the completeft in order and proportion; the method is so easy and natural, the parts bear fo just a proportion to one another, that among many Ff4

others,

others, this may pafs for a peculiar commendation of them; for thofe divifions and particulars which obfcure and perplex other writings, give a clearer light to ours. All that I would infinuate, therefore, is only this, that it is not neceffary to lay the method we ufe before the reader, only to write and then he will read, in order.

But it requires a full command of the fubject, a diftinct view, to keep it always in fight, or elfe, without fome method first defigned, we should be in danger of lofing it, and wandering after it, till we have loft ourfelves, and bewildered the reader.

A prefcribed method is neceffary for weaker heads, but the beauty of order is its freedom and unconstraint: it must be difperfed and thine in all the parts through the whole performance; but there is no neceflity of writing in trammels, when we can move more at eafe without them: neither is the proportion of writing to be meafured out like the proportions of a horfe, where every part must be drawn in the minuteft refpect to the fize and bignefs of the reft; but it is to be taken by the mind, and formed upon a general view and confideration of the whole. The ftatuary that carves Hercules in ftone, or cafts him in brafs, may be obliged to take his dimenfions from his foot; but the poet that defcribes him is not bound up to the geometer's rule: nor is an author under any obligation to write by the scale.

These hints will ferve to give you fome notion of order and proportion: and I must not dwell too long upon them, left I tranfgrefs the rules I am laying down.

$103. A Recapitulation.

Felton.

I fhall make no formal recapitulation of what I have delivered. Out of all thefe rules together, rifes a just style, and a perfect compofition. All the latitude that can be admitted, is in the ornament of writing; we do not require every author to fhine in gold and jewels: there is a moderation to be used in the pomp and trappings of a difcourfe: it is not neceffary that every part fhould be embellished and adorned; but the decoration fhould be fkilfully dif tributed through the whole: too full and glaring a light is offenfive, and confounds the eyes: in heaven itself there are vacancies and spaces between the ftars; and the day is not lefs beautiful for being interfperfed with clouds; they only moderate the brightness of the fun, and, without di

minishing from his fplendour, gild and adorn themselves with his rays. But to defcend from the skies: It is in writing a in drefs; the richest habits are not always the completeft, and a gentleman may make a better figure in a plain fuit, than in an embroidered coat ; the dress depends upon the imagination, but must be adjusted by the judgment, contrary to the opinion of the ladies, who value nothing but a good fancy in the choice of their cloaths. The firft excellence is to write in purity, plainly, and clearly; there is no difpenfation from thefe: but afterwards you have your choice of colours, and may enliven, adorn, and paint your subject as you please.

In writing, the rules have a relation and dependance on one another. They are held in one social bond, and joined, like the moral virtues, and liberal arts, in a fort of harmony and concord. He that cannot write pure, plain English, muft never pretend to write at all; it is in vain for him to drefs and adorn his difcourfe; the finer he endeavours to make it, he makes it only the more ridiculous. And on the other fide, let a man write in the exacteit purity and propriety of language, if he has not life and fire, to give his work fome force and fpirit, it is nothing but a mere corpfe, and a lumpish, unwieldy mass of matter. But every true genius, who is perfect mafter of the language he writes in, will let no fitting ornaments and decorations be wanting. His fancy flows in the richest vein, and gives his pieces fuch lively colours, and fo beautiful a complexion, that you would almost say his own blood and fpirits were transfufed into the work.

Ibid.

§ 104. How to form a right Tafle. A perfect mastery and elegance of ftyle is to be learned from the common rules, but must be improved by reading the ora tors, and poets, and the celebrated mafters in every kind; this will give you a right tafte, and a true relish; and when you can diftinguish the beauties of every finished piece, you will write yourfelf with equal commendation.

I do not affert that every good writer must have a genius for poetry; I know Tully is an undeniable exception: but I will venture to affirm, that a foul that is not moved with poetry, and has no tafte that way, is too dull and lumpish ever to write with any profpect of being read. It is a fatal mistake, and fimple fuperftitios,

to