His illustrations are varied and striking; he is even profuse of poetical conceptions and poetical imagery: his metaphors however are not unfrequently coarse, and his language is deficient in purity and selection. When he has begun to descant on a subject which interests his morbid feelings, he knows not when to pass to another. Upon the whole, it may perhaps be affirmed with safety, that his various productions were more calculated to excite the astonishment or indignation of his contemporaries, than to secure the applause or imitation of posterity.

In treating of the vehement style, I have not, as upon former occasions, attempted to select examples. Vehemence of style can only be perceived and relished by attending to a long series of reasonings and illustrations.

THE PLAIN STYLE.

A PLAIN style rejects all ambitious ornaments. The writer who adopts this manner, may perhaps endeavour to display his meaning with perspicuity and precision; qualities of style which, it must be confessed, are of the highest order. His composition may also be possessed of force and vivacity; but he will shew an indifference for what is merely ornamental. He does not strive to captivate the fancy by employing rhetorical figures, or the ear by musical arrangement: yet it is not necessary that he disgust his reader by a dryness or harshness of manner. A plain style is consistent with smoothness of arrangement, and a temperate use of metaphor; though neither of these is absolutely requisite.

In discussions of a philosophical nature, the plain style ought to predominate; and accordingly many of

our philosophical writers have employed it with propriety. Even in works which admit or require much ornament, there are parts where the plain manner should be adopted. But it must be remembered, that when this is the character which a writer affects throughout his whole composition, great weight of matter, and great force of sentiment, are required to secure the reader's attention. Aristotle furnishes the most complete example of a dry style: never perhaps was there an author who adhered so rigidly to the strictness of a didactic manner throughout all his writings, and conveyed so much instruction without the least approach to ornament. With the most profound genius, and the most extensive views, he writes like a pure intelligence, who addresses himself solely to the understanding, without making any use of the channel of the imagination. But this is a manner that is not to be imitated: for although the value of the matter may compensate for the dryness or harshness of the style, yet is that dryness a considerable defect; it fatigues the attention, and conveys our sentiments with disadvantage to the reader or hearer.

Swift may be placed at the head of those who have employed the plain style. Few English writers have exhibited greater talents. Few were better acquainted with the extent, the purity, the precision of the English language; and therefore, to those who are ambitious of attaining a pure and sober style, he is one of the most useful models. But we must not look for much ornament or grace in his language. His haughty and morose genius made him despise any embellishment of that kind as beneath his dignity. He delivers his sentiments in a plain, positive manner, like one who is sure he is always right, and is very indifferent whether his reader be pleased or not. His sentences are often negligently arranged the sense is sufficiently obvious, but little regard is paid to compactness or elegance. If a metaphor, or any other figure, chanced to render his satire more poignant, he would perhaps condescend to employ it, but if it tended only to embellish or illustrate,

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he would rather throw it aside. Hence in his serious writings, his style often borders upon the dry and unpleasing. But in his humorous pieces, the plainness. of his manner displays his wit to the greatest advantage.

"In

Dr. Johnson has commented on the style and manner of Swift with his usual powers of discrimination. his works he has given very different specimens both of sentiments and expression. His Tale of a Tub has little resemblance to his other pieces. It exhibits a vehemence and rapidity of mind, a copiousness of images, and vivacity of diction, such as he afterwards never possessed, or never exerted. It is of a mode so distinct and peculiar, that it must be considered by itself; what is true of that, is not true of any thing else which he has written.

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"In his other works is found an equable tenor of easy language, which rather trickles than flows. His delight was in simplicity. That he has in his works no metaphor, as has been said, is not true; but his few metaphors seem to be received rather by necessity than choice. He studied purity; and though perhaps all his strictures are not exact, yet it is not often that solecisms can be found; and whoever depends on his authority may generally conclude himself safe. His sentences are never too much dilated or contracted; and it will not be easy to find any embarrassment in the complication of his clauses, any inconsequence in his connexions, or abruptness in his transitions.

"His style was well suited to his thoughts, which are never subtilised by nice disquisitions, decorated by sparkling conceits, elevated by ambitious sentences, or variegated by far-sought learning. He pays no court to the passions; he excites neither surprise nor admiration; he always understands himself; and his readers always understand him: the peruser of Swift wants little previous knowledge; it will be sufficient that he is acquainted with common words and common things; he is neither required to mount elevations, nor to explore profundities; his passage is always on a level, along solid ground, without asperities, without obstruction.

"This easy and safe conveyance of meaning it was Swift's desire to attain, and for having attained it he deserves praise, though perhaps not the highest praise. For purposes merely didactic, when something is to be told that was not known before, it is the best mode; but against that inattention by which known truths are suffered to lie neglected, it makes no pròvision; it instructs, but does not persuade.'

It will now be proper to select a passage characteristic of that species of style of which we have been treating; and with this view we shall have recourse to the writings of Swift.

I suppose it will be granted that hardly one in an hundred among our people of quality, or gentry, appears to act by any principle of religion. That great numbers of them do entirely discard it, and are ready to own their disbelief of all revelation in ordinary discourse. Nor is the case much better among the vulgar, especially in great towns; where the profaneness and ignorance of handicraftsmen, small traders, servants, and the like, are to a degree very hard to be imagined greater. Then it is observed abroad, that no race of mortals hath so little sense of religion as the English soldiers: to confirm which, I have been often told by great officers in the army, that in the whole compass of their acquaintance, they could not recollect three of their profession, who seemed to regard or believe one syllable of the Gospel: and the same, at least, may be affirmed of the fleet. The consequences of all which, upon the actions of men, are equally manifest. They never go about, as in former times, to hide or palliate their vices; but expose them freely to view, like any other common occurrences of life, without the least reproach from the world or themselves. For instance, any man will tell you he intends to be drunk this evening, or was so last night, with as little ceremony or scruple as he would tell you the time of the day. He will swear, curse, or blaspheme, without the least passion or provocation. And although all regard for reputation be not quite laid aside in the other sex, it is however at so low an ebb, that very few among them seem to think virtue and conduct of any necessity for preserving it. If this be not so, how comes it to pass that women of tainted reputations find the same countenance and reception in all public places, with those of the nicest virtue who pay and receive visits from them, without any manner of scruple? Which proceeding, as it is not very old among us, so I take it to be of most pernicious consequence. It looks like a sort of compounding between virtue and vice; as if a woman were

* Johnson's Lives of English Poets.

allowed to be vicious, provided she be not profligate; as if there was a certain point where gallantry ends and infamy begins; or that an hundred criminal amours were not as pardonable as half a score. -Swift on the Advancement of Religion.

THE NEAT STYLE.

NEATNESS of style implies a certain degree of ornament. Its ornaments however are not of the most showy or brilliant kind, but such as are easily attained. A writer who employs this kind of style, considers the beauties of language as an object worthy of attention. He is careful in the choice of his words, and endeavours to arrange them with propriety and elegance; but he seldom attempts any bold flight of eloquence. His sentences are free from the incumbrance of superfluous words; they are of a moderate length, and rather inclining to brevity than to a swelling structure; they generally close with propriety, and are unincumbered with long tails. His cadence is varied, but not of the studied musical kind. Such figures as he employs, are short and correct, rather than elaborate and imaginative.

This style may perhaps be adopted by an author of superior genius; but it is attainable by one of no uncommon capacity. Any writer of ordinary attainments may acquire it, by carefully attending to the rules of rhetoric, and to the practice of writers of established reputation. It is a mode of writing that never becomes disagreeable. A familiar letter, or a law paper, may be written with neatness; and a sermon, or philosophical treatise, in a neat style, will be read with pleasure.

The writings of Blackstone and Adam Smith,