r>y v >. 1 OF A MANUAL OF ENGLISH PEOSE LITEEATUEE AUTHORIZED AMERICAN EDITION. Having received from MESSRS. GINN & COMPANY, Publishers, of Boston, New York, and Chicago, payment for the copyright in America of my "Manual of English Prose Literature," I assign the publishing rights in that country to them. W. MlNTO. UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEBH, May 1887. A MANUAL OF ENGLISH PROSE LITERATURE BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL DESIGNED MAINLY TO SHOW CHARACTERISTICS OF STYLE BY WILLIAM MINTO, M.A. PROFESSOR OF LOGIC AND LITERATURE IN TH UNIVERSITY OF AKEUUEEN AUTHORIZED AMERICAN EDITION BOSTON, U.S.A.: PUBLISHED BY GINN & COMPANY. 1901 PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION. THE main design of this book is to assist in directing students of English composition to the merits and the de- fects of our principal writers of prose. It is not, however, merely a collection of received critical opinions. It may be of some value to the inquirer after general informa- tion, as well as to readers more advanced than those kept specially in view. The characteristics of the work are briefly thesa It deals with prose alone, assigning books of fiction to the department of poetry; it endeavours to criticise upon a methodical plan, fully explained in an Introduction; it selects certain leading authors for full criticism and exem- plification ; and it gives unusual prominence to three select authors of recent data Little need be said to justify taking up Prose by itself. In criticising Poetry we are met by very different con- siderations from those that occur in the other kinds of composition. What is more, many people not particularly interested in Poetry are anxious for practical purposes to have a good knowledge of Prose style; and when Prose and Poetry are discussed in the same volume, Prose is generally sacrificed to Poetry. In excluding Romance or Fiction from a Manual of Vi PREFACE. Prose Literature, I follow a division suggested by the late Professor George Moir, in his treatises on Poetry, Romance, and Rhetoric. Romance has a closer affinity with Poetry than with Prose : it is cousin to Prose but sister to Poetry; it has the Prose features, but the Poetical spirit. The advantages of criticising upon a methodical plan in terms previously defined, will be at once apparent. Criti- cising methodically is like ploughing in straight lines : we get over the field not only sooner, but to much better pur- pose ; besides, it is easier to see both what we accomplish and what we miss. As regards the defining of critical terms, it was a favourite position with De Quincey that "before absolute and philosophic criticism can exist, we must have a good psychology." The present work makes little ^pretension to be philosophic, much less to be abso- lute; but it is an attempt to apply in criticism some of the light thrown upon the analysis of style by the newest psychology. I am aware that methodical critical dissection is considered by many a cold disenchanting process. But however cold and disenchanting, it is indispensable to the student : it is part of the apprenticeship that every work- man must submit to. Before learning to put a compli- cated mechanism together, we must take it to pieces, and study the parts one by one. If the student goes to work at random, picking up a hint here and a hint there, he is completely at the mercy of every pedantry that comes to him under the sanction of a popular name. The only true preservative against literary crotchets and affectations, is a comprehensive view of the principal arts and qualities, the principal means and ends, of style. It may be said that criticism on a uniform plan tends to destroy individuality ; that a book constructed on such a plan can be nothing but a featureless inventory. This can happen only if the plan is narrow, and if specific modes of the various qualities of style are not dis- tinguished with sufficient delicacy. Uniformity of plan, PREFACE. Vii so far from destroying individuality, is really the best way to bring individual characteristics into clear prominence : if all are subjected to the same examination, the range of the questions being sufficiently wide, individualities are thrown into relief with much greater distinctness than they possibly could be by any other process. In the following work, the account of each author contains a preliminary sketch of his character; the analysis that follows may be viewed as a means of tracing the outcome of that character in his style, and of making his peculiar- ities felt more vividly by bringing him into extended comparison with others. The student should be warned emphatically against such blind guides as declaim against the cramping influ- ence of rules for composition, and urge us to work out our own individuality without regard to the precepts of the schools. Sound principles of composition do not repress genius, but rather do genius a service by preventing it from dissipating itself in unprofitable eccentricities. There is eveiy room for variety within the conditions adopted in the following work : indeed their chief recommendation is that they recognise diversity of style according to diver- sity of subject and purpose. Students often put the ques- tion, What should we do to acquire a good style ? A principal aim in this Manual is to make students familiar with the fact that there are varieties of good style. In- stead of aiming blindly at the acquisition of " a good style," the writer of the speaker should first study his audience, and consider how he wishes to affect them; and then inquire how far the rhetorical precepts that he has learnt will help him to accomplish his purpose, and how far rhetorical teachers can direct him to the causes of success in those that have best accomplished the same ends in the same circumstances. Regarding the prominence given to the modern authors, I have only to repeat that the work is intended mainly viii PEEFACE. for students, and to say that the most rewarding study for them, in the first instance at least, lies in the more recent (which are also the higher) developments of prose style. With the same eye to the primary destination of the work, I have said comparatively little about prose writers anterior to the age of Elizabeth. The biographies of the various writers are brief; but every pains has been taken to make them accurate. The biographies of the three selected modern men will be found to be more complete than any hitherto published. January 25, 1872. . ,:' : PEEFACE TO SECOND EDITION. THE alterations that I have made In revising this book for a second edition have been mainly in one direction. I have here and there omitted or modified passages that might have seemed to countenance the idea that goodness or badness in style might be pronounced upon without reference to the effect aimed at by the writer. This I have done to prevent the slightest suspicion that the criticisms in this book consist in the dogmatic application of any absolute standard of style. In spite of the toler- ably plain disclaimer in my first Preface, this absoluteness of view has been not only suspected, but alleged. It is true I have not been able, after diligent search, to find the quotations by which the allegation was supported; nevertheless, I wish to place the purpose of the book in this respect beyond the possibility of honest misap- prehension. Since the first edition was issued, Mr Trevelyan's biography of Lord Macaulay has appeared, and Mr " H. A. Page " has published two volumes on the Life and Writ- ings of De Quincey. My sketches of Macaulay and De Quincey can, in consequence, no longer pretend to be "more complete than any hitherto published." December 82, I860. PREFACE TO THIRD EDITION. FOR this issue the book has been revised throughout The chief changes made have been in the short sketch of the life of Carlyle, which one is able now to treat with greater freedom as well as fuller knowledge. The estimate of his character has been allowed to stand, with only a few verbal alterations. I have to acknowledge many excellent suggestions for the extension of the work from critics who have spoken favourably on the whole of its plan and execution. At another time I may be able to give effect to some of these suggestions : mean time, the tolerably rapid sale of a large edition encourages me to believe that the book is found useful in its present shape as a contribution to the study of a wide subject. Nobody can be more sensible than myself that I have dealt with only a part of the subject. July 1830, CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. Ml ELBMENTS OF STYLB, . . . . 8*14 Vocabulary, .... 2 The Sentence, ..... 3 The Paragraph, ...... II Figures of Speech, . . . . . II QUALITIES OF STYLE, ...... 14-25 Intellectual Qualities Simplicity and Clearness, . , 15 Emotional Qualities- Strength, ... 19 Pathos, .... 2O The Ludicrous, ...... 23 Elegancies of Style Melody, Harmony, Taste, . . 24 KINDS OF COMPOSITION, . . . . 26-28 Description, Narration, Exposition, Persuasion, 26 27 28 28 PART L DE QUINOEY MACAULAY CAELTLE. CHAP. I.-THOMAS DE QUINCEY. Lmt, ! 31 CHARACTER, ........ 38 OPINIONS criticisms, ...... 46 XU CONTENTS. ELEMENTS OP STYLB Vocabulary, ....... 49 Sentences, , 50 Paragraphs, ....... 53 Figures of Speech, .... 55 QUALITIES OF STYLB Simplicity, . , . . . . . 60 Clearness, ....... 62 Strength, .*..... 64 Pathos, ....... 68 Humour, ....... 69 Melody and Harmony, . . . . . 71 Taste, . . . ... . . . 72 KINDS OF COMPOSITION Description, . . . . . . . 72 Narration, . 74 Exposition, ....... 75 CHAP. H.-THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. LIFE, ........ 77 CHARACTER, . . . .. . . 81 OPINIONS, ........ 85 ELEMENTS OF STYLB Vocabulary, . . . . . . . 87 Sentences, ....... 87 Paragraphs, ....... 89 Figures of Speech, . . . . . 97 QUALITIES OF STYLE Simplicity, ....... 104 Clearness, . 107 Strength, ....109 Pathos, ....... 113 The Ludicrous, . . 114 Melody, Harmony, Toate, . . . . . 115 KINDS OF COMPOSITION Description, . . . . 115 Narration, . . . . Il8 Exposition, . . . . . . . 123 Perauaaian, . . . . . . 124 CHAP. III. THOMAS CABLYLR LlFB, '3' CHARACTER, 136 OPINIONS, ... I 4 CONTENTS. Xiil ELEMENTS OF STYLE Vocabulary, . , . . . . 147 Sentences, . , , , . . 149 Paragraphs, . . . , , . . 152 Figures of Speech, 152 QUALITIES OF STYLE Simplicity, . . . . . . . 159 Clearness, 161 Strength, .. 162 Pathos, ....... 163 The Ludicrous, . . . . . . 163 Melody, Harmony, Taste, . . . 167 KINDS OP COMPOSITION Description, . . . . . . . 169 Narration, 173 Exposition, , . , . , . . 177 Persuasion, ..... 179 PAET II. PROSE WRITERS IN HISTORICAL ORDER. CHAP. I. PROSE WRITERS BEFORE 1580. FOURTEENTH CENTURY (Mandeville, Chaucer, Wicliffe, Trevisa), 183 FIFTEENTH CENTURY (Pecock, Fortescue, Capgrave, Caxton, Fabyan, &o.), ....... 186 FIRST HALF OF SIXTEENTH CENTURY (Berners, More, Elyot, Hall, Tyndale, CovenlHle, Latimer, Foxe, &c.), . . 189 THIRD QUARTER OF SIXTKBNTH CEJSTUKY (Ascham, Wilson, North, Holinshed, &c.), . . . . . 197 CHAP. IL FROM 1580 TO 1610. BIB PHILIP SIDNEY Life, ..... . < . 200 Character, .... Opinions, ... Elements of Style (Personification), . Qualities of Style (Pathos, Humour), Kiiida of Composition, . . 201 203 204 2O7 212 Xlv CONTENTS. RICHARD HOOKEE Life, ......;. 213 Character, . . . . . . . 215 Opinions, ....... 217 Elements of Style, . . . . . . 218 Qualities of Style (Confusion, Pathos, Melody), . . 221 . Kinds of Composition, . . . . . 226 JOHN LYLY, ....... 227 Euphuism analysed, ...... 229 OTHEB WRITERS Church Controversialists (Whitgift, Cartwright, Martin Mar- prelate, Parsons), . . . . . 232 Chroniclers (Stow, Speed), . . . . . 234 Historians (Hayward, Knolles, Daniel), . . . 234 Antiquaries (Camden, Spelman, Cotton), . . . 235 Maritime Chroniclers (Hakluyt, Purchas, &c.), . 235 Miscellaneous (RALEIGH, Burleigh, Dekker, James I., Overbury), 236 CHAP. III^-FEOM 1610 TO 1640. FRANCIS BACON Life, ........ 239 Character, ....... 240 Opinions, ....... 242 Elements of Style, . . . , : . . . . 244 Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Clearness, Strength), . . 248 Kinds of Composition (Narration, Exposition, Persuasion), . 251 OTHER WRITERS Divines under James (Field, Andrewes, Morton, DONNE), . 255 Divines under Charles /. (Hall, Chilliugwurth, Hales), . 257 Chronicler (Baker), ...... 259 Antiquarians (Usher, Selden), .... 259 Historian (Herbert of CherburyX .... 260 Miscellaneous (Ben Jouson, Wotton, Sandys, Lithgow, Bur- ton, Butter), ...... 260 CHAP. IV. FBOM 1640 TO 1670. THOMAS FULLEB Life, ........ 264 Character, ....... 265 Elements of Style, ...... 266 Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Perspicuity, Pathos, Wit and Humour), ...... 269 CONTENTS. XV JIREMT TAYLOR Life, ..* 274 Cl 1.1 ranter, . . . . . 275 Opinions, ....... 277 Elements of Style (Imagery), ..... 278 Qualities of Style (Pedantry, Strength, Pathos), . . 281 Kinds of Composition (Description, Exposition, Persuasion), . 287 ABRAHAM COWLET Life, t . . . . . . 289 Character, ....... 290 Elements of Style, ...... 292 Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Strength, "Wit and Humour), 294 OTHER WRITERS Theology (Sanderson, Pearson, Baxter, Owen, Fox, BUNYAN, &c.), 299 History (CLARENDON, &c.), . . . . . 304 Miscellaneous (Howell, Heylin, Earle, Sam. Butler, Felltham, BROWNE, More, Wilkins, Digby, Walton, MILTON, Gauden, HOBBES, Harrington, Sidney, Needliam), . 305 CHAP. V.-FBOM 1670 TO 170O. SIB WILLIAM TEMPLB Life, ........ 316 Character, . . . . . . . 318 Opinions, ....... 320 Elements of Style (Sentences and Paragraphs), . . 321 Qualities of Style (Precision, Dignity, Pathos, Wit, Taste), . 327 Kinds of Composition (Narration), . . . . 331 JOHN DKYDEN, ....... 332 OTHER WRITERS Theology (BARROW, TILLOTSON, Still ingfleet, Sherlock, SOUTH, Sprat, Burnet, Penn, Barclay, Ellwood), . 336 Philosophy (LocKE, Cudworth, Cumberland), . . 340 History (BeRNET, Mackenzie, Pepys, Evelyn, &c. ), . . 341 Miscellaneous tL' Estrange, Blount, Charleton, Halifax, Boyle, Newton, Ray), ...... 343 CHAP. VI.-PKOM 1700 TO 1730. Introductory Remarks, ...... 346 DANIKL DBFOB Life, .. 347 Character, . . . . . 349 Opinions, ....... 350 Elements of Style, . . . . . 351 XVI CONTENTS. Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Clearness, Strength, The Ludicrous), ...... Rinds of Composition (Description, Narration, Exposition), . JONATHAN SWIBT Life, ......*. Character, ....... Opinions, ....... Elements of Style (Similitudes, Allegory, Irony), . . Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Clearness, Strength, Pathos, Satire), ....... Kinds of Composition (Persuasion), . . . JOSEPH ADDISON Life, .... Character, ..... Opinions, ....... Elements of Style (Sentences), .... Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Obscurity, Wit, Melody, Taste), SIB RICHARD STEELK Life, > Character, ....... Pathos, ....... Humour, ....... OTHER WRITERS Theology (Atterbnry, Hoadley, Clarke, Toland, Collins, Wool- ston, Tindal, &c.), ..... Philosophy (Mandeville, Wollaston, Shaftesbury, BERKELEY), History (Echard, Strype, &c. ), .... Miscellaneous (Bentley, Hughes, Budgell, Arbuthnot, BoL- INOBROKE, &c. ), . . . . . . CHAP. VII. FROM 178O TO 176CX SAMUEL JOHNSON Life, . Character, . . Opinions, Elements of Style (Sentences Qualities of Style (Simplicity Clearness, Strength, Pathos, Ridicule, and Humour), Kinds of Composition, OTHER WRITERS Theology (Morgan, Chubb, Butler, Warburton, Leland, Lardner, Foster, Wesley, Whitefield, &c.), Philosophy (Hutcheson, Hartley, Edwards, HUME), . . History (Hume, Smollett, Middleton, &c.), . . . Miscellaneous (Franklin, Mehuotli, &c.), . . CONTENTS. XV11 CHAP. VIII. FROM 1760 TO 1790. EDMUND BURKB Life, .. 440 Character, ....... 443 Opinions, ....... 446 Elements of Style (Figures of Speech), . . . 448 Qualities of Style (Strength, Ridicule, Bad Taste), . . 452 Kinds of Composition (Description, Persuasion), . . 458 OLIVER GOLDSMITH Life, ........ 461 Character, ....... 462 Opinions, ....... 464 Elements of Style (Sentences, Epigram), . . . 465 Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Strength, Pathos, Wit and Humour), ...... 468 OTHER WRITERS Theology (Horsley, Porteous, Campbell), . . . 473 Philosophy (Reid, Tucker, Price, Priestley, Beattie, Campbell, Lord Kames, Blair, Adam Smith), . . . 474 History (Robertson, Gibbon, Boswell), . . . 481 Miscellaneous (Walpole, "Junius" (Francis), Home Tooke, Lord Monboddo), ..... 486 CHAP. IX. PBOM 1790 TO 1820. WILLIAM PALBY Life, ........ 492 Chnracter, ....... 493 Opinions, ....... 494 Elements of Style (Paragraphs), .... 494 Qualities of Style (Simplicity, Perspicuity), . . . 497 Kinds of Composition (Description, Exposition, Persuasion), 499 ROBERT HALL Life, ........ 504 Character, ....... 505 Opinions, ....... 506 Elements of Style, ...... 507 Qualities of Style (Abstruseness, Clearness, Strength, Pathos), 507 Kinds of Composition (Persuasion), .... 512 OTHER WRITERS Theology (Simeon, the Milners, Foster, Parr, Watson, Wakefield), 513 Philosophy (Stewart, Brown, Bentham, Coleridge, Malthas, Ricardo, Alison, Disraeli), .... $16 History (Mitford, Gillies), ..... 520 Miscellaneous (Cobbett, Mackintosh), ... 520 CONTENTS. SHAP. X. SELECT WRITERS OP THE EARLY PART OF THIS CENTURY. Theology (Chalmers), ...... 523 History (James Mill, Hallam, Alison), . . . . 525 I'kilosophy (Hamilton), ...... 530 Uisce/lit.neoiis (Jeffrey, Sydney Smith, Lamb, Landor, Hunt, liazlitt, Wilson, Luckhart), . , . * 532 A MANUAL ENGLISH PEOSE LITERATURE, INTRODUCTION. In the case of the authors chosen for full examination, and to some extent also in the case of the others, the various peculiarities of Style are taken up in a fixed order ; and it may help the reader's memory to state this order at tlie beginning. The preliminary account of each author's Character is intended mainly as an introduction to the characteristics of his style ; and while it gratifies a natural curiosity in repeating what is known of his appearance or personality, does not profess to be a complete account of the man in all his relations, public and domestic. The analysis of the style proceeds upon the following order : Vocabulary, Sentence and Paragraph, and Figures of Speech, which may be called the ELEMENTS OF STYLE; Simplicity, Clearness, Strength, Pathos, Melody, Harmony, and Taste, the QUALITIES OP STYLE; Description, Narration, Exposition, Persuasion, the KINDS OF COMPOSITION. Upon each of these subdivisions we shall make some remarks, endeavouring to justify the arrangement wherever it seems to be open to objection or misapprehension. ELEMENTS OF STYLE. VOCABULARY. Command of language is the author's first requisite. A good memory for words is no less indispensable to the author than a good memory for forms is to the painter. Words are the material 2 INTRODUCTION. that the author works in, and it is necessary above everything that he should have a large store at his command. Probably no man has ever been master of the whole wealth of the English vocabulary. The extent of each man's mastery can be ascertained with exactness only by an actual numerical calcu- lation, such as has been made for the poetry of Shakspeare and Milton. This has not yet been attempted for any of our great prose writers ; and until some enthusiast arises with sufficient industry for such a labour, we must be content with a vague estimate, formed upon our general impression of freshness and variety of diction. The simple fact of holding a place among the leaders of liter- ature is a proof of extraordinary mastery of language. But can we, without actual numeration, distinguish degrees of mastery ? Most probably we can. We could have told from a general im- pression, without actually counting, that Shakspeare uses a greater variety of words than Milton. We can perceive, without referring to the enlargement 'of dictionaries, that our language has increased in scope and flexibility since the middle of last century. In like manner we can fix relatively any author's command of words. We may say with confidence that Defoe is more copious and varied than Addison, and Burke than Johnson ; and, although our judgment of modern writers is more liable to error, we may . venture to say that Dej^jjjncgyj M^caulav. and CarlyJe show.' a greater command of^xpression than auyi'prose writers of their generation. It is interesting, also, to observe on what special subjects an author's expression is most copious and original. Perhaps no one has an equal abundance of words for all purposes. From the in- evitable limitation of human faculties, no man, however " myriad- minded," can give his attention to everything. Inevitably every man falls into special tracks of observation, reflection, and im- agination ; and each man accumulates words, and expresses him- self with fluency and variety, concerning the subjects that are oftenest in his thoughts. Were we to apply the test of arithmetic, we should find that two men using very much the same number of words upon the whole, have the depths and shallows of their verbal wealth at very different places. To mark out fully where a vocabulary is weak and where it is strong, we should have to anticipate the qualities of style and the kinds of composition. A man that can wiite freely and eloquently in one strain or in one species of composition, may be dry and barren in another strain or another species of composition. Most writers have some one vein that they peculiarly and obviously excel in. Thus Addison is rich in the language of melodious and elegant simplicity, Paley in the language of homely simplicity, ELEMENTS OF STYLE. 3 the language of elaborate stateliness, Macaulay in fnguage of brilliant energy. Here it may be well to point out and the caution is of such importance that it may have to be repeated that the divisions in the following analysis are not, in the language of the logicians, mutually exclusive. Following Professor Bain's Rhetoric we con- sider style under three different aspects approach it from three different sides ; but we do not treat of different things. In each of the divisions the same things are examined, only from different points of view. Each of these divisions, were our examination to be ideally thorough, should exhibit every possible excellence and defect of style. We might take up all the notable points in an author's style under what we have called the " Elements of Style " the choice of words, plain and figurative, and the arrangement of these in sentences and paragraphs. We might, again, take up everything remarkable under the " Qualities of Style " simplicity, clearness, and so forth : a style is good or bad according as it pro- duces, or fails to produce, certain effects. Finally, we might com- prehend the whole art of style under the " Kinds of Composition " : every excellence of style is either good description, good narration, good exposition, good persuasion, or good poetry. The divisions are far from being mutually exclusiva Were we to say in one department all that might be said, we should leave nothing for the others. The sole justification of having three, and not one, is practical convenience. There must of necessity be occasional repetitions, but each department has certain arts of style that are best regarded from its own particular point of view. THE SENTENCE. The construction of sentences is an important part of style. Sometimes, indeed, it is expressed by the word style, as if it con- stituted the whole art. With a nearer approach to accuracy, it is sometimes called the mechanical part of style. This designation may be allowed, if sentence-building is loosely taken to include the construction of paragraphs and the general method of a discourse. It is probably true that the construction of sentences and of para- graphs, in so far as they are intended for the communication of knowledge, may be subjected to more precise rules than any other processes of the art of composition. The principles on which these rules are founded are capable of extension to the method of whole chapters or essays. But it must be borne in mind that a writer can benefit from direct precept chiefly as regards the easy, clear, and complete communication of what is in his thoughts ; for any effect of style beyond this, precepts are of comparatively little service. SPECIAL ARTIFICES OP CONSTRUCTION. One may doubt whether Jit would be practicable to make anything like a comprehensive 4 INTEODUCTION. collection of all the forms of sentence possible in English. At any rate, it has not yet been done. Writers on composition have hitherto attempted nothing more than to distinguish a few well- marked modes of construction. I. The Periodic Structure. "A period," says Campbell, "is a complex sentence, wherein the meaning remains suspended till the whole is finished. . . . The criterion of a period is this : If you stop anywhere before the end, the preceding words will not form a sentence, and therefore cannot convey any determined sense." This is the common definition of a period, and it is probably difficult to go farther without committing one's self to general statements that will not apply to every period. At the risk of being slightly inaccurate, it might be well to go a little deeper into the substance of the periodic structure. What exactly do we imply by saying that the meaning is suspended till the close ? We imply that the reader's interest is kept in suspense till the close. And how is this done ? Generally, it may be said, by bringing on predicates before what they are predicated of, and, which is virtually a similar process, qualifications before what they qualify ; letting us know descriptive adjuncts, results, conditions, alternatives, oratorical contrasts, of subjects, states, or actions, be- fore we formally know the particular subjects, states, or actions contemplated by the writer. Thus, in the following sentence "On whatever side we contemplate Homer, what principally strikes us is his invention ; " the subject in this case the key- word is reserved to the last, and the adverbial adjuncts of the predicate are stated before the predicate itself. A statement is made in a form showing that it has a bearing upon something to follow, and our curiosity is awak- ened to know what that something is. " On whatever side we con- template Homer." The next statement, "what principally strikes us," contracts our curiosity into a more definite field, and thereby sharpens our interest. Still it points us forward. There is a pro- gress from the indefinite to the definite, and, in the case of this particular period, a growing interest, which is not relieved till we reach the very last word. In a loose structure of sentence, which may be called the natural or usual structure in English, the pre- dicate follows the subject, and qualifying adjuncts follow what they qualify : we know the subject before we know the attribute predicated of it or annexed to it. In a period, on the other hand, the writer, stating the predicate or qualifying adjuncts of a word before the word itself, may be said to circumvent that word to make (as the Greek periodos signifies) a " circuit " about it, to bring its predicate or its adjuncts, as the case may be, from behind it and place them before it ELEMENTS OF STYLE. 6 Campbell speaks of the period as a " complex " sentence. If the above view of the period is accepted as substantially correct, " complexity," in the grammatical sense, must be regarded as an accident of the period, and not part of its essenca The statements of other writers on composition warrant us in applying the term period to sentences that are not complex. Professor Bain simply says that, " in a periodic sentence, the meaning is suspended until the close," and makes no mention of a periodic sentence being neces- sarily complex. And Whately gives, as an example of periodic structure, the following " simple " sentence : " One of the most cele- brated of men for wisdom and for prosperity was Solomon." It would be wett if the application of the term periodic were a little extended. ^When qualifying adjuncts are brought in before their exact bearing is known, and in such a way as to stimulate curiosity, a peculiar effect is produced ; and we should be justified by the derivation of the word "periodic" in applying it to all marked cases of such anticipation^ Practically, indeed, the word is applied in the wider sense. If Campbell's definition were rigor- ously adhered to, the term periodic could be applied only to sen- tences that keep the reader in suspense up to the very last word. But, as a matter of fact, the term is applied much more widely. We speak of writers as having a periodic style, although their works contain few complete periods, according to Campbell's "criterion of a period." Since, therefore, the narrow definition of the term is practically disregarded, it would be well to come to a formal understanding of its latitude. fThe term " period " might still be retained for a periodic sentence, rigorously complete or nearly so.'NfBut it would probably better suit the prevailing application ot the term "periodic" to accept it as a name for such anticipations as I have roughly indicated to call every style " periodic " where such anticipations habitually occur^ Of this periodic style, the most eminent of modern masters is De Quincey. In the loose sentence in a sentence so constructed as to be noticeably " loose " qualifying and explanatory adjuncts are tacked on after the words they refer to. This might be copiously exemplified from the writings of Carlyle, and, in a less degree, from Addison. The effect of the periodic structure is to .keep the mind in a state of uniform or increasing tension until the denouement. This is the effect stated in its ultimate and most general form. The effect that a reader is conscious of receiving varies greatly with the nature of the subject-matter. "- When the subject is easy and / familiar, the reader, finding the sentence or clause come to an end as soon as his expectations are satisfied, receives an agreeable im- pression of neatness and finish. When the subject-matter is un- 2, 6 INTRODUCTION. familiar, or when the suspense is unduly prolonged, the periodic structure is intolerably tedious, or intolerably exasperating, accord ing to the temper of the reader. In impassioned writing the period has a moderating effect, the tension of the mind till the key-word is reached preventing a dissipation of excitement. Dr Blair says that the periodic style is " the most pompous, musical, and oratorical manner of composing," and that it " gives an air of gravity and dignity to composition." The Doctor pro- bably had in his eye such periodic writers as Hooker, Sir Thomas Browne, and Johnson. Undoubtedly long periodic sentences give great scope for pomp, music, gravity, dignity, and such effects, but these are not necessary attributes of the period. A period, as we have defined it, need not be long ; and a lively interest may be sustained as well as a grave interest. Advantages and disadvantages of the periodic structure. To some extent we have anticipated these in considering the effect of the period. In light subjects, neatness or finish is generally regarded as an advantaga Yet even in this a caution is needed ; rounded neatness, if it recurs too frequently, may become tiresome. The caution can probably be given in no more definite form than Hamlet's : "Be not too periodic neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor." In unfamiliar subjects, care must be taken that the considera- tions kept in suspense be not too numerous or too abstruse. De Quincey has vividly described " the effect of weariness and repul- sion Avhich may arise from this single vice of unwieldy compre- hensiveness in the structure of sentences." " Those who are not accustomed to watch the effects of composition upon the feelings, or have had little experience in voluminous reading pursued for weeks, would scarcely imagine how much of downright physical exhaustion is produced by what is technically called the periodic style of writing. It is not the length, the &irepavro\oyla, the par- alytic flux of words. It is not even the cumbrous involution of parts within parts, separately considered, that bears so heavily upon the attention. It is the suspense, the holding on of the mind until what is called the dir<*Som, or coming round of th sentence, commences. This it is which wears out the faculty of attention. A sentence, for example, begins with a series of ifs; perhaps a dozen lines are occupied with expanding the condi- tions under which something is affirmed or denied. Here you cannot dismiss and have done with the ideas as you go along; for as yet all is hypothetic all is suspended in air. The con- ditions are not fully to be understood until you are acquainted with the dependency : you must give a separate attention to each clause of this complex hypothesis, and yet, having done that by a ELEMENTS OF STYLE. 7 painful effort, you have done nothing at all ; for you must exercise a reacting attention through the corresponding latter section, in order to follow out its relations to all parts of the hypothesis which sustains it." These remarks point to the abuse rather than to the use of the periodic style, and were directed against a prevailing style in newspaper "leaders." It is obviously necessary, for the avoiding of perplexity, not to bring in too many or too abstruse considerations before their bearing is made known. A writer with the least regard for his readers, should see that by so doing he exacts too severe an effort of attention. It may safely be laid down that the longer a period is, the simpler should be both the language and the matter of the suspended clauses. Still more must this be kept in view when the principle of the periodic structure is extended to paragraphs or chapters. Mr Herbert Spencer in his ' Essay on the Philosophy of Style,' and Professor Bain in his Rhetoric, advocate what we have de- fined as periodic structure, ou the ground that it enables us to apprehend the meaning of a complex statement with less risk of confusion. The advantage of placing qualifying words before the object that they qualify is briefly stated in Bain's Rhetoric, under the " order of words." The legitimate use of the periodic structure in impassioned prose is best seen in the so-called " prose fantasies " of De Qnipcqy. II. Sentences studiously Long and studiously Short. No smali element in the mechanical art of sentence-building is the adjustment of the length of the sentence. One of the greatest faults in our early writers is that their sentences are too long. They did not know when to stop. They seem to have been afraid to let a sentence out of their hands till they had tacked on all the more important qualifications of the main statement. They thus frequently ran on to a most cumbrous length ; and when they did proceed to a new sentence, frequently took no pains to connect it with the preceding main statement, but started off in pursuit of some subordinate idea suggested by one of the qualifying state- ments. So defective, indeed, were they in sentence-structure, that it is dangerous for a beginner in composition to spend much time in their company. And one great part of this deficiency was, that they did not know when to end a sentence, or, in other words, that they had not the art of beginning a new sentence at the proper point It would be absurd to prescribe a definite limit for the length of sentences, or even to say in what proportion long and short should be intermixed. Here, too, discretion is the tutor. Only it must be borne in mind that a long series either of very short sentences or of very long sentences is tiresome. The distinction between the " periodic style " (gtyle periodique) 8 INTRODUCTION. and the "abrupt style" (style coupe) depends to a great extent upon the length of the sentences. The Periodic style (as we see from its description by De Quincey) implies something more than the use of the periodic structure ; it implies long periods, elabo- rately constructed, holding " a flock of clauses " in suspense, and moving with a stately rhythm. So in the Abrupt style, the short sentence is an important feature, although, as appears in the style of Macaulay, it is not the only feature. 1 The use of a startling series of short sentences may almost be said to be a feature of English oratory. We find it in the journals of the Elizabethan Parliaments ; and, later, in the writings of Bolingbroke, in the published speeches of Chatham, and in the speeches and writings of Burke. The lo^g sentence, formed of several members gradually increas- ing in length so as to make a climax in sound, would universally be designated oratorical. It was much affected by Cicero. III. The Balanced Sentence. " When the different clauses of a compound sentence are made similar in form, they are said to be balanced." The artifice of constructing successive clauses upon the same plan is said to have been introduced into our language from the Italian. Wherever it came from, it begins to appear noticeably about the middle of the sixteenth century. In Elizabeth's reign it became very fashionable. It was one feature of Lyly's "Euphuism." It held its ground through the reign of James, appearing even in booksellers' advertisements and in the titles of maps. One of John Speed's maps is entitled, 'A new and accurate map of the world, drawn according to the truest descrip- . tions, latest discoveries, and best observations, that have been made by English or strangers.' The advantages of the balanced structure are pointed out briefly, but fully, in Bain's Rhetoric. / It is a pleasure in itself j^when not carried to excess, it is a help to the memory^ and, when the bal- anced clauses stand in antithesis, it lends emphasis to the opposi- tion. We find also in practice that it serves as a guide to the proper arrangement of the important words. Under a natural sense of effect the important word is often reserved for the last place, the best position for emphasis. Further, in impassioned prose, as in Raleigh's invocation to Death, and Jfo Quinsy's imi- tations the invocations to Opium and to Solitude-^balance has something of the effect of metre. 1 While speaking of these general distinctions of style, we may note a third, the Pointed style, consisting in " the profuse employment of the Balanced Sen- tence, in conjunction with Antithesis, Epigram, and Climax." How far these distinctions are from being distinctive, in the sense of indicating incompatible modes of composition, may be judged from the fact that Dr Johnson often em- ploys all the three "styles" in one paragraph. ELEMENTS OF STYLE. 9 In the case of balance, much more than in the case of the periodic structure, it is necessary to beware of going to excess. There is almost no limit to the means of disguising the periodic structure. The reader may be entertained with such variety in the parts of a period, that he enjoys its bracing effects without knowing the cause. But the balanced structure cannot be so disguised : it is like metre to disguise it is to destroy it Clauses are constructed on the same plan, or they are not ; corresponding words occupy corresponding places in their respective clauses, or they do not And while the balanced structure is prominent, and thus apt to fatigue the ear, it is very catching ; it has a great power of enslaving whoever employs it heedlessly. Several of our writers, such as Johnson, " Junius," and Macaulav, allowed their ear to be captivated, and not only employed balanced forms to excess, but often added tautologous and otherwise questionable clauses from an irresistible craving for the familiar measure. IV. The Condensed Sentence. "This is a sentence abbrevi- ated by a forced and unusual construction." Anything so violently artificial as this can be used but seldom without giving offence. It was a favourite artifice with Gibbon. In the present day, when used at all, it is used chiefly for comic purposes. Readers of Dickens and his imitators are familiar with such terms as " drew tears from his eyes and a handkerchief from his pocket." Occasionally we find it in works of more serious pretensions, as in Mr Forster's Life of Goldsmith ; but nobody now uses it for serious purposes so often as Gibbon did. GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. I. The Emphatic Places of a Sentence. " As in an army on the march, the fighting columns are placed front and rear, and the baggage in the centre, so the emphatic parts of a sentence should be found either in the be- ginning or in the end, subordinate and matter-of-course expressions in the middle." There is nothing more urgently required for the improvement of our sentences than a constant study to observe this principle. The special artifices that we have mentioned are good only for certain modes of composition and for particular purposes, and become offensive when too often repeated; but it is difficult to conceive when there would be an impropriety in placing important words where the reader naturally expects to find them. The reader's attention falls easily and naturally upon what stands at the beginning and what stands at the end, unless obviously in- troductory in the one case, or obviously rounding off in the other. The beginning and the end are the natural places for the im- portant words. This arrangement is conducive both to clearness and to elegance : it prevents confusion, and is an aid to justness of emphasis. Aa important words need not occupy absolutely the 10 INTRODUCTION. first place nor absolutely the last, but at the beginning may be preceded by qualifying clauses, and at the end may be followed by unemphatic appendages that are not of a nature to distract attention, we are not required to make unnatural inversions or to take unidiomatic liberties of any kind. If a writer finds a construction stiff and unnatural, he may be sure that he has not succeeded in throwing the emphasis where it should be thrown ; if he has not buried the important words in the depths of the sentence, he has probably dune worse : he has probably drawn off the reader's attention from the words altogether, and fixed it where it should seldom or never be fixed upon the form. The following out of this principle is not so easy as it appears. One is safe to assert that it will never be carried out thoroughly till it is made an important part of school drill. Without some such long and early training, a scrupulous purist in this respect might hang as long over his sentences as Lord Tennyson is said to hang over his lines, and commit blunders after all. In bring- ing sentences into harmony with this principle of arrangement alone, there is a field for endless variety of school exercises in composition. II. Unity of Sentence. Upon this point it is especially dangerous to lay down any abstract rule. Irving's statements, that "a sentence or period ought to express one entire thought or mental proposition," and that " it is improper to connect in language things which are separated in reality," are much too dogmatic and cramping. Separate particulars must often be brought together in the same sentenca The only universal caution that can be given is, to beware of distracting from the effect of the main statement by particulars not immediately relevant. "Every part should be subservient to one principal affirmation." The advice not to overcrowd a sentence may have to yield to a law of the paragraph concerning the due subordination in form of whatever is subordinate in meaning. " A statement merely explanatory or qualifying, put into a sentence apart, acquires a dangerous prominence." Most of the faults specified by Blair as breaches of " unity " occur in connection with other arts of sentence-structure. " Ex- cess of parenthetical clauses " is an abuse of the periodic structure, objectionable only in so far as it imposes too severe a strain upon the retentive powers of the reader. It is a fault often committed by P Quincey, whose own powers of holding several things in the mind at once without confusion sometimes betrayed him into for- getting that all are not equally gifted. The fault of not "bring- ing the sentence to a full and perfect close " BO flagrant in our ELEMENTS OF STYLE. 11 early writers is not likely to be committed by any one aware of the value of the end of a sentence as the place for important words. The specialties of the sentence in Narrative and in Description are examined at length in Bain's Rhetoric (THE SENTENCE, sec. 25). He says that " the only rule that can be observed in distinguish- ing the sentences is to choose the larger breaks in the sense." THE PARAGRAPH. Professor Bain was the first, so far as I am aware, to consider how far rules can be laid down for the perspicuous construction of paragraphs. Other writers on composition, such as Campbell, Lord Kames, Blair, and Whately, stop short with the sentence. Dg Quiacev. a close student of the art of composition, felt the importance^ of looking beyond the arrangement of the parts of a sentence, and philosophised in a desultory way concerning the bearing that one sentence should have upon another. " It is use- less," he says, in one of his uncollected papers, " to judge of an artist until you have some principles in the art. The two capital secrets in the art of prose composition are these : ist, The philo- sophy of transition and connection ; 2dly, The way in which sen- tences are made to modify each other ; for the most powerful effects in written eloquence arise out of this reverberation, as it were, from each other, in a rapid succession of sentences ; and because some limitation is necessary to the length and complexity of sentences, in order to make this interdependency felt : hence it is that the Germans have no eloquence." These "two capital secrets" cor- respond very much with Professor Bain's two first rules of the paragraph. I have examined at considerable length the paragraph arrange- ment of ..Macajqky. Very few writers in our language seem to have paid"*inuc'h attention to the construction of paragraphs. Macaulav is perhaps the most exemplary. Bacon and Temple, ITorritheir legal and diplomatic education, are much more meth- odical than the generality. Johnson is also entitled to praise. But none of them can be recommended as a model FIGURES OP SPEECH. In most treatises on composition, the consideration of figurative language occupies a large space. Of the small portion of Aris- totle's Rhetoric devoted to composition purely, it constitutes about one half. So in the works of Campbell, Kames, and Blair, par- ticularly in Kames's ' Elements of Criticism,' the origin, nature, limits, minute divisions, the uses and the abuses of figures of speech, are examined and exemplified at great length. And yet these later writers profess to be much more concise than " tha 12 INTRODUCTION. ancient critics and grammarians," and to have discarded many vexatiously subtle subdivisions. The chief thing wanted in the ancient divisions and subdivisions was some broad principle of classification. This is supplied by referring figures to their origin in the operations of the intellect. A proper basis for a classification is found in the ultimate analysis of these operations. When the classes thus instituted Figures of Similarity, Figures of Contiguity, and Figures of Contrast have gathered up all the figures that belong to them respectively, very lew remain unclassified. Some of those that do remain are dis- tinguished from the others on a different principle. Such figures as interrogation, exclamation, and apostrophe, are departures from the ordinary structure of sentences, and thus are distinguished from such figures as are departures from the ordinary application of words. According to the distinction of the old grammarians, they are " figures," as distingushed from " tropes." So much for the classification of figures. It is not quite complete it leaves hyperbole, climax, innuendo, and irony unclassified ; but it is a great improvement upon the old chaos. The truth is, that the subjects included in books of composition under the head of Figures of Speech do not admit of a logical classification. Under that head rhetoricians have gradually ac- cumulated all artifices of style that do not belong to the choice of plain words and the structure of sentences. Such an accumula- tion could hardly be other than heterogeneous. 1 One of the ancient terms it might be well to revive and redefine in accordance with its derivation and original application namely, the word " trope." At present, when used at all, it is used loosely as a kind of general synonym for a figure of speech. By Quintilian it was defined as an opposite to the term figure designating, as we have just seen, extraordinary applications of individual words in contrast to irregular constructions of sentence. Such a distinc- tion is of no practical value it would be useful to have a special term for irregular constructions of sentence ; but it would be im- possible to restrict the word figure to such an application. Apart from that, the word trope is not treated with much delicacy when set up as an expression for all " figures of speech " (in the wide sense), except irregular constructions of sentenca I would propose to rescue the word from an application so promiscuous, and to settle it in its original application as a name for a much narrower class of artifices. Interpreted by its derivation, trope signifies a word " turned," 1 Had paragraph structure been sooner recognised, the so-called figure of speech, ''climax," would probably have been referred to the paragraph as a special artifice in paragraph construction. Climax is no more a figure of speech than the periodic, the balanced, or the condensed structure of sentence. ELEMENTS OF STYLE. 13 diverted from its ordinary application, and pressed, as it were, into special service. Now only a limited number of figures of speech consist in this extraordinary use of single words ; it would be con- venient to have a common designation for them. What could be more proper than to use for that designation the existing word trope 1 To vindicate the restriction of a term to a special class of figures, even wbon that restriction is warranted by the derivation of the term, we must show that occasions arise for speaking of that clasa of figures collectively. In this case such a vindication is easy. There are_writers t such aq J)^Onuicey. who use comparatively few formal similitudes, and yet use metaphor, personification, synec- doche, or metonymy, in almost every sentence. On the other hand there are writers, such as Macaulay, whose diction in its general texture is plain, but Avho employ a great many formal similitudes. Both classes of writers are figurative, but the one class is rich in tropes, the other in similes. The want of such a word as trope, thus defined, has led to an abuse of the word metaphor by popular writers. Metaphor has been taken to supply the want. In strict language, metaphor means a similitude implied in the use of a single word, without the formal sign of comparison ; but it is often loosely used as a common designation for synecdoches and metonymies as well. The temptation to such an abuse is withdrawn by reviving the original meaning of the word tropa The chief points that we shall notice under Figures of Speech, besides the profusion of any one figure or class of figures, are the sources of similitudes and compliance with the conditions of effec- tive comparison. The sources of an author's similitudes are often peculiarly interesting, as affording a means of measuring the cir- cumference of his knowledge. We cannot, to be sure, by such means, take a very accurate measure, but we can tell what books a man has dipped into, may discover what writers he has plagiar- ised from, and may be able to guess how his interests are divided between books and the living world. What casts doubt upon our conclusions is the fact that so many writers are similitude-hunters, are very often on the watch for good similitudes ; and the conse- quent presumption that they utilise a large proportion of their knowledge. Thomas Fuller is one of the most versatile, as he is one of the most delightful, masters of allusion. He would seem to have turned almost every item of his knowledge to account, and thus has a greater appearance of learning than many men of really profounder erudition and wider knowledge of the world. The conditions of effective comparison exhaust all that can be said in the way of advice concerning the use of figures. When a similitude is addressed to the understanding is intended merely 14 INTRODUCTION. to make one's meaning more perspicuous care must be taken that the point of the comparison be clear, that there be no distracting circumstances, and that the comparison be more intelligible to those addressed than the thing compared. When a similitude is intended to elevate or to debase an object by displaying its high or its low relations, care must be taken that the comparison be, in the estimation of those addressed, really higher or (as the case may be) lower than the object ; farther, that it be not extravagantly and offensively out of level, and that it be fresh. These are the main conditions of effective comparison for purposes of exposition, and for persuasive eulogy or ridicule. In comparisons designed only for embellishment, the conditions are novelty and harmony, or, as it might also be called, propriety. As regards the number of figures employed, every writer must be guided by his own dis- cretion. The critic of style can only remark, that if writers were always careful to make their comparisons effective for a purpose of some kind, the number would be considerably reduced. In treating of an author's figures, as in treating of his vocabulary, we might anticipate most of the qualities of his style. Figures may be simple, or stirring, or grand, or touching, or witty, or humorous. A full account of a man's figurative language would display nearly all his characteristics. As a sort of postscript to the Elements of Style, we may easily define the mutual relation of two terms often used in contradis- tinction MANNER and MATTER. As distinguished from matter, manner includes everything that we h;ive designated by the general title Elements of Style not only the choice of words and the structure of the parts of a discourse, but everything superinduced upon the subject of discourse by way either of com- parison or of contrast QUALITIES OF STYLE. The division of qualities into purity, perspicuity, ornament, pro- priety, is open to the objection of being too vague. This appears in amendments of the scheme proposed by different critics. Home would strike off " propriety " as being common to all the other qualities. Others, confining propriety to the choice of individual words, would retain it and strike off " purity " as being a part of pro- priety thus restricted. Others still would dispense with "ornament " as a separate division, and discuss ornaments under perspicuity and propriety. And Blair maintains that "all the qualities of a good style may be ranged under two heads, perspicuity and ornament." Such vague fumbling is inevitable so long as qualities of style are viewed in the abstract, and without reference to their ends. QUALITIES OF STYLE. 15 Campbell was the first to suggest a substantial principle of classi- fication by considering style as it affects the mind of the reader. His analysis is not perfect, but he was upon the right track. " It appears," he says, "that besides purity, which is a quality entirely grammatical, the five simple and original qualities of style, con- sidered as an object to the understanding, the imagination, the pas- sions, and the ear, are perspicuity, vivacity, elegance, animation, and music." That so many writers on composition should have fallen back from this comparatively thorough analysis to bad ver- sions of the old analysis, is not much to their credit One of the causes of imperfection in Campbell's analysis was his desire to separate rigidly between the effects of style or manner, and the effects of the subject-matter. This cannot be done : the manner must always be viewed in relation to the matter. In order to get at qualities of style, we must first make an analysis of the effects of a composition as a whole matter and manner together ; not till then are we in a position to consider how far the effect is due to the manner and how far to the matter. For example, if a composition is readily intelligible, we consider how far this is due to the familiarity of the subject-matter, and how far to the author's treatment, to his choice and arrangement of words, and to his illustrations. Nothing could be more absurd than Blair's confi- dent assertion that the difficulty of a subject can never be pleaded as an excuse for want of perspicuity ; that if an author's ideas are clear, he should always be able to make them perspicuous to others. Perspicuous, as Blair understands the word, means easily seen through ; and it may be doubted whether any powers of style could make the generalisations of a science easily and immediately apparent to a mind not familiar with the particulars. Style can do much, but it has a limit It can never make a subject natu- rally abstruse as easily understood as a subject naturally simple, a treatise on Logic as perspicuous as a statement of familiar facts. So with compositions that address the feelings ; the master of style cannot but work at a disadvantage when his subject is not natu- rally impressive. The chief aim of the following brief remarks on Qualities of Style is to define prevailing critical terms as closely as may be with reference to the ultimate analysis here adopted. INTELLECTUAL QUALITIES OP STYLE- SIMPLICITY AUD CLEARNESS. Aristotle recognises but one intellectual quality, clearness. The first requisite of composition is that it be clear. So Quintilian : " The first virtue of eloquence is perspicuity." In Campbell's scheme, also, " the first and most essential of the qualities of style is perspicuity." 16 INTRODUCTION. Blair, while he reduced all qualities to perspicuity and ornament, was led, in his consideration of perspicuity, to another intellectual quality namely, precision. He described precision as " the high- est part of the quality denoted by perspicuity," and then made the following contrast between precision and perspicuity " in a quali- fied sense." "It appears," he said, "that an author may, in a qualified sense, be perspicuous, while yet he is far from being pre- cise. He uses proper words and proper arrangements ; he gives you the idea as clear as he conceives it himself, and so far he is perspicuous : but the ideas are not very clear in his own mind ; they are loose and general, and therefore cannot be expressed with precision. All subjects do not equally require precision. It is sufficient, on many occasions, that we have a general view of the meaning. The subject, perhaps, is of the known and familiar kind ; and we are in no hazard of mistaking the sense of the author, though every word which he uses be not precise and exact. Few authors, for instance, in the English language, are more clear and perspicuous, on the whole, than Archbishop Tillotson and Sir Wil- liam Temple ; yet neither of them are remarkable for precision." The fact is, that if the words are taken in their ordinary senses, precision is not a mode of perspicuity, but a quality in some meas- ure antagonistic to perspicuity. Blair might have drawn a line between perspicuity and precision, and made them two separate intellectual qualities. The division would not have been the best, but it would have been a real division, and better than none at all. Aristotle's single virtue of " clearness " or " perspicuity " needs to be analysed before we can characterise authors with discrimina- tion. We need two broad divisions, simplicity and clearness, and a subdivision of clearness into general clearness and minute clear- ness. This more exact division I shall briefly explain : it is not arbitrary dictatorial sequestration of terms to unfamiliar applica- tions, but a breaking up of such sequestrations, and a reconciliation of the language of criticism with the language of familiar speech. When designations of merit are loose and indeterminate, they may sometimes be cleared up by a reference to designations of de- merit. It is so in this case. What are the faults of style as a means of communicating knowledge 1 We at once say abstruseness and confusion. Keturning, then, to the positive side, we ask ourselves what are the corresponding merits what are the opposites of abstruseness and confusion and we have no difficulty in seeing that the main intellectual "virtues" of style are simplicity and clearness. Simplicity and abstruseness are relative terms. Whatever is hard to understand is not simple, is abstruse, recondite ; and what is hard for one man may be easy for another. The phraseology of natural science or of medicine is hard to the unlearned reader, but QUALITIES OF STYLfl. 17 easy as a primer to the naturalist or the physician. Abstract terms are generally unpopular, and generally disliked as dry, bookish, scholastic ; yet they are said to come to Scotchmen more naturally than the concrete language of common things. Want of simpli- city is not an absolute fault ; it is a fault only in relation to the persons addressed. A writer addressing himself purposely to a learned audience only wastes his strength by beating about the bush for language universally familiar. Clearness, as opposed to confusion, is not so much relative to the capacity of the persons addressed. Ambiguous language words so arranged as to convey an impression different from what the writer intends, may mislead learned and unlearned alike. Con- fused expression is not justifiable under any circumstances, unless, indeed, it is the writer's deliberate purpose to mislead. The edu- cated reader will guess the meaning sooner than the uneducated ; but neither educated nor uneducated should be burdened with the effort of guessing. Clearness, as we have said, may conveniently be subdivided into general clearness and minute clearness minute clearness being expressed by such words as distinctness, exactness, precision. There is a marked line of separation between these subdivisions. Accu- racy in the general outlines is a different thing from accuracy in the details. In truth, the two are somewhat antagonistic. To dwell with minute precision on the details tends rather to confuse our impressions as to the general outlines. After our attention has been turned to minute distinctions, we find it difficult to grasp the mutual relations of the parts so distinguished when we endeavour to conceive them as a whole. Again, minute distinctness is opposed to simplicity. The general outlines of things can be conveyed in familiar language ; but when we desire to be exact, we must have recourse to terms that are technical and unfamiliar. To say that the earth is " round " is a sufficiently clear description of the form of the earth in a general way and the word is familiar to every- body ; but when we are more exact, and describe the earth as " a sphere flattened at the poles." we remove ourselves from the easy comprehension of many of our countrymen. We are now in a better position to discuss the critical and popu- lar use of the word perspicuity. It is evident, from Campbell's account of the faults against perspicuity, that he understands by the term a certain amount of clearness combined with simplicity. He includes in his list of offences not only confusion of thought, ambiguity using the same word in different senses and uncer- tain reference in pronouns and relatives, which are offences against clearness, but also technical terms and long sentences, which are offences against simplicity. This is also the popular use of the term. Such writers as Addison and Macaulay are said to be per- 18 INTRODUCTION. spicuous, because they are at once simple or easily understood, and free from obvious confusion. Their ideas are expressed in popular language, and sufficiently discriminated for popular apprehension. Popularly, therefore, as well as in some rhetorical treatises, per- spicuity stands for a clear, unambiguous, unconfused structure of simple language. But why should the term be confined to a clear structure of simple language 1 We can easily see how it came to be so confined. A general reader does not receive clear impres- sions from a work couched in abstruse language, however perspic- uous may be the arrangement. The effort of realising the words is too much, and he lets them slip through his mind vaguely. For him an abstruse style cannot be perspicuous simplicity is indispensable to perspicuity. But while we see how the word came to be so confined, we cannot see why it should be kept so confined. Johnson's arrangement is clearer and more free from ambiguity than Addison's or Tillotson's. Why should he not be called a perspicuous writer ? But some of our readers will say that Johnson is called a per- spicuous writer. This is true, but he is not so by Campbell's defi- nition, for he uses technical terms and long sentences ; nor is he so by the verdict of those that are loosely called general readers. He is called perspicuous because his words are apt to his meaning, and because the general structure of his discourses is clear. His language is not simple ; he is not perspicuous if simplicity be con- sidered a part of perspicuity. Here, therefore, seems to arise a clash between the general reader and the reader more familiar with abstract and learned phraseology. But the disagreement is more apparent than real The general reader applies the term perspicuous to a clear choice and construction of simple language, of language familiar to him; the more learned reader applies the term to a clear choice and structure of language, abstruse perhaps to the generality, but still familiar to him. In point of fact, the two classes of readers use the word perspicuous with the same meaning. Both have in view, not the familiarity of the language or the structure, but the clear- ness of it, its freedom from ambiguity and confusion. The intel- lectual qualities of such writers as Tillotson, Locke, Addison, Macaulay, are not fully distinguished by the single word perspic- uous the style of such writers is perspicuous and simple. John- eon and De_Quincey are also perspicuous in their choice of words^ and in their general structure ; but their diction, as a whole, ia abstruse. We said a little ago that clearness might be subdivided into general clearness and minute clearness. At that time we men- tioned no single word for general clearness. In our consideration of the word perspicuity, we have seen that, when hunted down to QUALITIES OF STYLE. 19 its real signification, it proves to be the very word required. Per- spicuity, or lucidity, will thus stand for general clearness, unam- biguous, unconfused structure what may loosely be called general accuracy of outline. For minute accuracy, careful discrimination of terms demanding from the reader an effort to make sure that his ideas are not vague, but rigidly defined we have the terms precision, exactness, and distinctness. A distinct, exact writer may be perspicuous ; but, as we have said, he runs a risk of not being so. When a writer is scrupulously anxious that his readers understand every detail exactly as he con- ceives it, there is a danger that he put too severe a strain upon them, and confuse their comprehension of the general aspect of his theme. jDe Quincey is an example of a writer at once exactanj EMOTIONAL QUALITIES OF STYLE STRENGTH, PATHOS, THE LUDICROUS. The emotional qualities of style are not so difficult to distinguish as the intellectual qualities. Had Campbell not been needlessly anxious to isolate the style from the subject-matter, he would never have thought of huddling together all the emotional quali- ties under the name of vivacity. 1 There are three broadly dis- tinguished emotional qualities strength, pathos, and the ludi- crous ; and each of these is a general name for distinct varieties. Under the general name of Strength are embraced such'varieties as animation, vivacity, liveliness, rapidity, brilliancy ; nerve, vigour, force, energy, fervour; dignity, stateliness, splendour, grandeur, magnificence, loftiness, sublimity. Between the extremes in the list animation and sublimity there is a wide difference ; yet sublimity is more appropriately classed with animation than with any mode of pathos. So with rapidity and dignity. The contrast between strength and pathos 1 Longinns's celebrated treatise irepi ityovs, mistranslated "On the Sublime" through the Latin De Sublimitate, falls into the same excess of abstraction. Hypsos, according to De Quincey, means everything tending to elevate compo- sition above commonplace. 20 INTRODUCTION. is as the contrast between motion and rest. The effect of a calm, sustained motion is nearer to the effect of absolute repose than it is to the effect of a restless, rapid, abrupt motion ; yet the calm, sustained motion is considered as a state of motion, and not as a state of rest. In like manner, an overpowering sense of sublimity approaches nearer to a sense of depression and melancholy than it does to animation or vivacity ; yet it is essentially a mode of strength, and not a mode of pathos. In the above list I have attempted some kind of subordinate division, throwing together the terms that seem more nearly syn- onymous. It would not be possible to define them exactly without incurring the charge of making one's own feelings the standard for all men. The terms are used with considerable latitude, partly because few people take the trouble to weigh their words, but partly also because different men have different ideals of animation, different ideals of energy, different ideals of sublimity. All can understand, upon due reflection, the common bond between these qualities their common difference from the qualities comprehended under pathos ; but no amount of explanation can give two men of different character the same ideas of animation, energy, dignity, or sublimity. The utmost that explanation can do is to disabuse their minds of the idea that the one is wrong and the other right, and to persuade them that they are simply at variance. At the same time, the application of the terms is not absolutely chaotic. Take the universal suffrage, and you find a considerable body of substantial agreement between the loose borders. One great cause of the licentious abuse of these terms is the desire of admirers to credit their favourites with every excellence of style. Could we subtract all the abuses committed under this impulse, we should find the popular applications of terms very much at one. All agree in describing Macaulay as animated, rapid, and brilliant. There is not so much unanimity in accredit- ing him with dignity at least with dignity of the highest de- gree ; and he is seldom credited with sublimity. Headers would probably be no less unanimous in calling Jeremy Taylor fervid, Dry den energetic, Temple dignified, Defoe nervous, Johnson vigor- ous, Burke splendid, and De Quincey's " prose fantasies " sublime. Perhaps none of the above words are so shifting in their appli- cation as the \vord sublimity. In an account of De Quincey's character I have tried to distinguish two opposite modes of sub- limity. No critical term is more in need of definition. De Quin- cey denies it of Homer, and ascribes it in the highest degree to Milton, seeming to understand by it the exhibiting of vast power to adoring contemplation. Pathos is contrasted with the sentiment of power, and is said to QUALITIES OF STYLE. 21 be "allied to inaction, repose, and the passive side of our nature." According to this definition, whatever excites or agitates is not pathetic. This distinction, like every attempt at analysis of mental states, is open to endless dispute. It will be almost unanimously allowed as regards tender feelings awakened by the representation of " objects of special affection, displays of active goodness, humane sentiments, and gentle pleasures." But it may stagger many as applied to the representations of pain and misery. Are these not agitating 1 and are they not justly called pathetic? To answer all conceivable difficulties in the way of understand- ing the above definition of pathos would be hopeless within our present limits. It may remove some difficulties to remind the reader that we have here to do not with tender feeling as awak- ened by actual objects, but with tender feeling as awakened by verbal representations. Pathos, as here discussed, is the quality of a style that awakens tender feelings not another name for tender feeling as it arises in actual life. I do not mean that the feelings arising from these two sources differ otherwise than in degree ; I mean only that the reality is usually more agitating than the verbal representation. The report of a railway accident may be read with a certain luxurious horror by a delicate person, whom the actual sight would throw into fits. But still the question returns, Are not verbal representations of pain and misery often agitating 1 The answer to this question is, that not every representation of pain and misery is pathetic. To speak technically, there are two different uses of painful scenes in composition the description of misery is adapted to two distinct ends. These may be defined, with sufficient accu- racy, as the persuasive end and the poetic end. When a writer or a speaker wishes, by a painful description or a painful story, to persuade to a course of action, he dwells upon the particulars 'that agitate and excite. A pleader wishing to excite pity for his client, so as to procure acquittal, dwells upon the harrowing side of the case the destitution of the man's family, and such- like. He does not cater for the pleasure of the jurors, but does his best to make them uncomfortable. So the preacher of a charity sermon, if he wishes to draw contributions from hia audience, must not throw a sentimental halo over the miseries of the poor, but must drag into prominence hunger, dirt, and nakedness, in their most repulsive aspects, horrifying his hearers with pictures that haunt them until they have done their utmost *o relieve the sufferers. Very different is ,the end of the poet His object is to throw his reader into a pleasing melancholy. He withholds from his picture of distress all disgusting and exciting circumstances, reconciles us to the pain by dwelling upon its 22 INTEODUCTION. alleviations, represents misery as the inevitable lot of man, ex- hibits the authors of misery as visited with condign punishment, expresses impassioned sympathy with the unfortunate victims. By some artifice or other I have mentioned only a few for illus- tration he contrives to make us acquiesce in the existence of the misery represented. He has failed in his end if he leaves us dis- satisfied and uncomfortable, because the misery was not relieved or cannot be relieved now. If we are not reconciled to the ex- istence of the misery, disposed simply to mourn over it and be content, the composition is not pathetic, but painful. For this luxurious treatment of painful things the poet is often heavily censured by the preacher. Sterne's ' Sentimental Journey ' was reprobated by Robert Hall ; and in our own day we are familiar with Carlyle's denunciation of "whining, puling, sickly senti- mentality." To this distinction between the painful end of persuasion and the pathetic end of poetry, we may add a little by way of antici- pating the more obvious objections. It will be said that a preacher's object is to persuade people to action, and yet that sermons are often called pathetic. This fact need not disturb our definition. For, i, While it is (me of a preacher's objects to persuade to action, it is not his only object : the pulpit has also a function of consolation and consolation, the reconciling of people to their miseries, is by our definition essen- tially pathetic. 2, Supposing a sermon admirably adapted to set beneficence in motion supposing it to present a picture of most harrowing distress the hearers cannot take measures for relief at once ; and meantime, if not so excited as to be thoroughly uncomfortable, they may indulge in pathetic dreams of the relief that they intend to give. 3, The effect of a composition depends very much upon the recipient a tale of woe that makes one man uncomfortable for days, may supply another with a luxurious feast of mournful sentiment. It is chiefly this last consideration that makes the application of the term pathos shifting that causes tho difficulty of drawing any "objective" line between pathos and horror. Few persons skilled in analysing their feelings would ' object to the above definition of pathos, but there would be con- siderable difference of opinion as to what is agitating or horrible and what is truly pathetic. Again, it may be said that a tragic poem is agitating, and yet that it is pathetic. To which we answer that in a tragedy, while isolated scenes are tempestuously agitating, the effect may yet be pathetic on the whole. Tragedy " purifies the mind by pity and terror ; " the atmosphere is shaken with tempests, only to subside at the end into a purer and more perfect calm. Painful incidents, thrilling transports of grief, keep alive our interest in the plot : QUALITIES OF STYLE. 23 we do not see the pathetic side of these painful representations till we look back upon them from the repose of the conclusion. I need not dwell on the terms for varieties of the Ludicrous. The only nicety is the distinction between wit and humour. Much has been written on this distinction. One can see, from the examples quoted, that critics are very much at one, though they generally fail in definition, owing to the vagueness of their psychological language. Professor Bain's theory is that humour is simply the laughable degradation of an object without malice, in a genial, kindly, good-natured way ; and that vrit is " an in- genious and unexpected play upon* words." The two qualities are not opposed, not incompatible. A good deal of the confusion about them has arisen from viewing them as two contrasted and inconsistent qualities. Wit may be humorous, or it may be derisive, malicious. I have somewhere seen it laid down that humour " involves an element of the subjectiva" When we call a writer humorous, we have regard to the spirit of his ludicrous degradation ; we imply that he is good-natured that he bears no malice. When we call a writer witty, we have regard simply to the cleverness of his expression ; he may be sarcastic, like Swift or humorous, like Steele. The proper antithesis to humour is satire : wit is common to both. Such is the true definition of humour, but in the actual applica- tion there may be as much inconstancy as in the application of the term pathos, and from the same reason. What appears kindly and good-natured to one man, may not appear so to another. Addison is generally classed among the humourists ; yet only the other day his kindliness was described as an affectation put on to sharpen the sting of his ridicule. Johnson spoke of his "malevolent wit and humorous sarcasm " ; and the present writer believes that it would be difficult to find, among all Addison's papers, half-a-dozen in which the wit may not fairly be characterised as malicious. He is a humourist to us, but he could hardly have appeared a humour- ist to his victims. There is another cause of difference among critics as respects particular compositions. A reader may refuse to acknowledge a degradation, however comical. He may view an object too seri- ously to allow that it should be trifled with. A recent critic professes himself blind to the humour of De Quincey, and sees in his playful liberties with distinguished names nothing but frivolous impertinence. In all such cases, as De Quincey him- self says, "not to sympathise is not to understand," 24 INTRODUCTION. ELEGANCIES OF STYLE-MELODY, HARMONY", TASTE. " In the harmony of periods," says Blair, " two things may be considered. First, agreeable sound, or modulation in general with- out any particular expression. Next, the sound so ordered as to become expressive of the sense." Instead of expressing qualities so different by a single term, it is better to provide a term for each. In accordance with the acceptation of melody and harmony in the vocabulary of music, we may describe " agreeable s_ound or modulation in general " as Melody, and " the sound so ordered as to become expressive of the sense " as Harmony. If a single designation is wanted for the two qualities together, we may, agreeably to Campbell's list of quali- ties, call them the music of composition. Under Melody there are two things that we may consider. First, whether an author conforms to the general laws of melody, the avoiding of harsh effects ; the alternation of long and short, emphatic and unemphatic syllables ; the alternation of conson- ants among themselves, and vowels among themselves; the avoid- ing of unpleasant alliterations ; the cadence at the close. Second, what is his prevailing rhythm, tune or strain, and how far this is varied. To examine how far an author observes the general rules of melody would be a good school exercise. It is not easy to give an idea of an author's favourite strain. The only means open to us is to produce characteristic specimens. We have as yet no scheme of nomenclature or notation for describing it technically. Some writers, perhaps the majority, can impart no characteristic swing to their language either having no natural preference for a particular rhythm, or giving their whole attention to the expres- sion of the meaning, or being overruled by habitual combinations. Only such as have, first, a decided ear for effects of cadence, and, secondly, a copious choice of words, can attain to a melody that shall be either characteristic or effective. As regards Harmony. There is such a thing as harmony, or adaptation of sound to sense, even in prose. At the same time, change of strain or movement to suit change of theme is not so marked in prose as in poetry, and for a very obvious reason. The writer of verse can suit himself to variations of feeling by choice of metre, but the writer of prose has no such fixed steps to help him to vary his pace. Besides, the prose writer's habits of con- struction are accommodated to his prevailing rhythm ; the phrases that most readily occur to him are in pace with this rhythm, so that, along with a greater difficulty than the verse writer in chang- ing his pace, owing to the want of a standard metre, he has a QUALITIES OF STYLE. 25 farther difficulty that besets none but verse writers accustomed only to one metre. Accordingly, we find that prose writers having a characteristic rhythm, can vary it but slightly to harmonise with the subject- matter. The word taste is used in two different senses ; and when we meet with the word, and are disposed to challenge its application, we do well to make sure in which signification our author employs it. In its widest sense it is equivalent to artistic sensibility as Blair defines it, " the power of receiying pleasure from the beauties of nature and of art." In its narrower sense it may be expressed as artistic judgment, being identical with what Blair and others define as " delicacy " and " correctness " of taste. By writers of the present day the word seems to be generally used in the nar- rower sense ; and in this sense it is used in the following work. As regards what artistic judgment is there may be wide differ- ences of opinion. Many men, many tastes ; one man's liking may be another man's loathing. Still, when all has been said that can be said concerning differences of taste, it cannot be denied that there is a considerable body of agreement To take the elements of style separately. There is a tolerably unanimous public opinion against interlarding English composition with foreign words or idioms, Latin, French, or German; against needless coining of new words; and against setting up of unidiomatic combinations. No writer could make an excessive use of any artifice of construction balanced sentences, short sentences, condensed sentences, abrupt and startling transitions without incurring general censure. So as regards figures of speech : a style too ornate, too hyperbolical, too declamatory, is condemned as such by the critics with very considerable unanimity. Marked abuses of the elements of style are very generally recognised as abuses. To be sure, if a writer is otherwise fresh and vigorous, all read him ; and even fastidious critics wink at his eccentricities as an agreeable break in the general monotony of composition ; but few venture to hold up his eccentricities for general imitation. Concerning the emotional qualities of style we find much less agreement. There are always a few of wider literary knowledge and superior discernment who groan inwardly, some of them out- wardly, at the judgment of the multitude in the matter of sub- limity, pathos, and humour. And these apart, writers and their admirers separate naturally into different schools. Taste " varies with the emotional constitution, the intellectual tendencies, and the education of each individual. A person of strong tender feel- ings is not easily offended by the iteration of pathetic images ; the sense of the ludicrous and of humour is in many cases entirely 26 INTRODUCTION. wanting ; and the strength of humane and moral sentiment may be such as to recoil from inflicting ludicrous degradation. A mind bent ou the pursuit of truth views with distaste the exaggerations of th poetL art Each person is by education attached more to one school or class of writers than to another." KINDS OF COMPOSITION. Five " kinds of composition " are set down in Bain's Rhetoric description, narration, exposition, persuasion, poetry. 1 Each of these kinds has a special method, a special body of rules. The student who has mastered everything that has been given under the " Elements " and the " Qualities " of style, has still something to learn. We have already remarked that the three divisions adopted in this work are distinguished not as separate component parts, but only as different aspects or different ways of approach. We have said that under either the "Elements of Style," the " Qualities of Style," or the " Kinds of Composition," a complete survey might be taken of all the arts of style. When we come to consider the kinds of composition, we see that this remark needs a farther limitation. The kinds of composition may be subdivided, and under each of the subdivisions might be included a complete survey of the arts of style. Every precept of style laid down under the " Elements " and the " Qualities " might be repeated under De- scription, Narration, and Exposition. Whoever wishes to describe well, narrate well, and expound well, would be all the better for knowing every good advice that can be given in the departments prior in the order of our sketch. Persuasion, again, embraces everything prior to it There is no precept of style that may not be useful to the orator or the persuasive writer. " Rhetoric " is another name for the whole art of composition. DESCRIPTION, NARRATION, EXPOSITION. These three kinds of composition may be roughly distinguished * as follows : Description embraces all the means of representing in words particular " objects of consciousness," whether external things or states of mind ; narration, all the means of representing particular sequences of events ; exposition, all the means of repre- senting general propositions. These may be taken as rough defi- nitions of them in their elemental purity ; in actual composition they are almost always mixed. For the simplest forms of description, narration, and exposition, special rules would be of no practical use would be affected and superfluous. It is only in the more complicated and difficult forms 1 The design of the present work excludes Poetry, both with and without the accompaniment of metre. KINDS OF COMPOSITION. , 27 that precepts become of service, and then they may be said to be indispensable. The main difficulty in description arises "when we have to describe a varied scene the array of a battle, a town, a prospect, the exterior or interior of a building, a piece of machinery, the geography of a country, the structure of a plant or an animal." It is to this difficulty that the special rules of description apply. Burke and Macaulay are often said to possess great descriptive power. But, as we shall see, this can mean only that they present with vividness the individual particulars or striking aspects of a scene. Neither of them possesses great descriptive method. Carlyle may be said to have raised the standard of descriptive method ; Alison also, and later Mr Kinglake, are very studied in their descriptions. The principles of description, as stated in Bain's Khetoric, are perhaps the best defined and the least liable to exception of all precepts relating to composition. No person can describe a com- plicated scene well without consciously or unconsciously satisfying these conditions ; and a person with a moderate command of lan- guage, by adhering to these conditions, will surpass at least as regards the first essential of drawing a clear picture the undisci- plined efforts of very high genius. No such exactness of plan is attainable for the narration of complicated events. Still, it is possible to point out to the his- torian his chief liabilities to confusion, and put him so far upon his guard. We defined the fundamental idea of narration as being the repre- sentation of 'particular sequences of events. But History in its actual development is a much more complex affair. De Quincey recognises three modes of history : Narrative (a record of public transactions) ; Scenical (a study of picturesque effects) ; and Philo- sophical (a reasoned explanation of events). These are real dis- tinctions, and we are not sure that they might not be multiplied. Not that extant histories may be divided into these three classes such a work as Macaulay's ' History of England ' attempts to combine the three modes but these distinctions point to three different functions of History. The historian may simply record public transactions without attempting to explain them or draw lessons from them, and without any effort to describe splendid spectacles or interesting incidents. He may give his principal care to making the record of events instructive, may have a studious eye to the lessons of political and social wisdom, or he may give his principal care to making the record of events scenically or dramatically interesting. Now, without saying that these three functions should be kept distinct that a history should be either plainly narrative, or philosophical, or scenical, and should not 28 INTRODUCTION. aspire to be all three at once there is an advantage in considering a history under these three aspects separately. We observe first by what arts the historian makes his narrative simple and per- spicuous whether he follows the order of events, where and with what justification he departs from that order, what provision he makes for keeping distinct in our minds the several concurring streams of events in complicated transactions, what skill he shows in the construction of summaries, and other minor points. His skill in explaining events by general principles, and in deducing general lessons, forms a separate consideration. And still another consideration is his scenical and dramatic skill ; his word-painting, plot-arrangement, and other points of artistic treatment. Apart from the objects of critical remark thus grouped together may be placed, as a thing for special consideration, the particular form of historical chapter or book that undertakes to delineate the whole social state of a people at some one epoch. The most cele- brated example of this is the third chapter of Macaulay's History. For the statement of simple generalities, presenting no difficulty to the apprehension of the reader, little direction can be given. The rules of exposition apply only to the more abstruse gener- alities. The four leading arts of statement and illustration are iteration, obverse iteration, exemplification, and comparison. The popular expositor must also study the arts of imparting interest to dry subjects, and must learn to appreciate the difficulties of the tyro, and to take every advantage of the previous knowledge of his readers. The arts of PERSUASION, rhetoric proper, open up a still wider field. We have said that all the arts of style are of service to the orator. There are times, perhaps, when the speaker may choose to set the precepts of clear expression on one side. Instead of trying to express himself clearly, he may seek to mislead and cheat his audience with studied ambiguity; but he will do this all the better if he is able, upon occasion, to express himself clearly and attractively. The principal things to attend to in criticising oratory are the orator's knowledge and power of adapting himself to the persons addressed, his verbal ingenuity as shown in happy turns of expres- sion, his argumentative power, and his skill in playing upon special emotions. In the examination of the leading authors, we follow the order of this introductory sketch. We do not take up, in the case of every author, every point here mentioned ; we remark only upon the prominent features in each individual case ; but we take up the various points in the order of our preliminary analysis. PART L DE QUINCEY. MACAULAY. CARLYLE. CHAPTER I THOMAS DE QUINCEY, 17851859. AMONG the most eminent prose writers of this century is Thomas de Quincey, best known as The English Opiums-Eater. The family of De Quiucey, as we learn from this its most famous modern representative, was originally Norwegian, played a distin- guished part in the Norman Conquest, and flourished through nine or ten generations as one of the houses of nobility, until its head, the Earl of Winchester, was attainted for treason. For more than a century before the birth of the " Opium-Eater," none .of his name had borne a title of high rank. His father was an opulent mer- chant in Manchester, who died young, leaving his widow a fortune of ;i6oo a-year. We know the particulars of the earlier part of De Quincey's life from his ' Confessions of an Opium-Eater,' and his ' Autobiographic Sketches.' The fifth son of a family of eight, he was born on the i5th of August 1785, at Greenhay, then an isolated house about a mile from Manchester. He has recorded his earliest recollections ; and he was so precocious, that these date from the middle of his second year. His autobiography contains few incidents that de- part strikingly from the ordinary course of the world. In his own record, things that are insignificant as objects of general interest assume the proportions that all human beings must assign to the events of their own lifa His first great affliction was the death of a favourite sister when he was about six years old. Were we to measure him by the standard of ordinary children, we should refuse to believe what he tells us of the profound gloom thrown over him by this bereave- ment " the night that for him gathered upon that event ran after 32 THOMAS DE QUINCEY. his steps far into life." "Well it was for me at this period," lie says, " if well it were for me to live at all, that from any continued contemplation of my misery I was forced to wean myself, and sud- denly to assume the harness of life." From these " sickly reveries " he was suddenly withdrawn, and " introduced to the world of strifa" A " horrid pugilistic brother," five or six years older than himself, whose "genius for mischief amounted to inspiration," returned home from a public school. The character of this brother is drawn in the Sketches with ex- quisite humour and fondness. He was a boy of amazing spirits and volubility. He maintained a constant war with the boys of a neighbouring factory, and compelled little Thomas to bear a part. He kept the nursery in a whirl of excitement and wonder with war bulletins, ghost stories, tragic theatricals, and burlesque lectures " on all subjects known to man, from the Thirty-nine Articles of our English Church down to pyrotechnics, legerdemain, magic both black and white thaumaturgy, and necromancy." After two years of this excitement, William left Greenhay, and Thomas, then in his eighth year, relapsed into his quiet life, and steadily pursued his studies under one of his guardians, finding in that guardian's family other objects for his precocious sympathy and meditation. When he was eleven years old his mother removed to Bath, and placed him at the grammar-school there. He had made such progress under his guardian's tutorship that at Bath his Latin verses were paraded by the head-master as an incitement to the older boys. This distinction led to his removal from the school. His austere mother was so shocked at the compliments he was receiving, that, after two years, she sent him to a private school in Wiltshire, " of which," he says, " the chief recommendation lay iu the religious character of the master." At Winkfield he remained but a year. Then came a pleasant interlude in his school life. He spent the summer travelling in Ireland with Lord Westport, a young friend of his own age, and on his return stayed for three months at Laxton, the seat of Lord Carbery, where he studied Greek and talked theology with the beautiful Lady Carbery. But his pleasures were again interrupted by the higher powers. His guardians de- cided that he should go for three years to Manchester grammar- school before proceeding to Oxford. Some boys would have hailed the change with pleasure, but young De Quincey, though then but fifteen and a few months more, was premature in the expansion of his mind, and had begun to think boyish society intolerable. He went to Manchester in 1800, but he could not bring himself to be content with his situation. In the course of two years his health gave way, and no longer able to endure the restraint, he took his departure one day without warning. His wanderings did not last long. He walked straight to Chester ; and, while hanging about LIFE. 33 hia mother's house trying to get an interview with his sister, was caught by an easy stratagem. He was not, however, sent back to school, but remained at his mother's house till his guardians should decide what was to be done with him. Soon followed the great adventure of his life, the most interest- ing part of his Confessions. Obtaining some money from his mother for a pedestrian tour in Wales, he tired of the mountain solitudes, and shaped his course to London, in hopes of being able to borrow two hundred pounds on his expectations. Here he went through hard experiences. His errand brought him under the vexatious extortions and delays of a money-lender. He was reduced to the brink of starvation. On one occasion, indeed, he might have perished but for the kindness of a companion in mis- fortune, the poor outcast Anne, whom in happier days he vainly sought to trace. Fortunately he was discovered and taken home again. He remained at home about a year ; but being taunted by his uncle with wasting his time, he undertook to go to Oxford upon ,sioo of an annual allowance, and proceeded thither in the October of 1803. The 'Autobiographic Sketches,' as republished, terminate with his sudden resolution to go to Oxford. In their original form, as contributions to ' Tait's Magazine,' three more papers undertake to describe his life at Oxford, but these consist mostly of rambling digressions on the idea of an English University, on the Greek orators, on Paley, and suchlike, and contain very little personal narrative. This much we may glean, that he lived a hermit kind of life, and did not conform in the least to the studies of the place. He " sequestered himself " so completely that (to quote his own expression), " for the first two years of my residence in Oxford, I compute that I did not utter one hundred words." He had but one conversation with his tutor. " It consisted of three sentences, two of which fell to his share, one to mine." In all senses he was justified in exclaiming, " Oxford, ancient mother ! hoary with ancestral honours, time-honoured, and, haply it may be, time-shat- tered power, I owe thee nothing ! Of thy vast riches I took not a shilling, though living among multitudes who owed to thee their daily bread." In the matter of study, he was a law to himself. He told his tutor in that notable conversation that he was reading Paley ; but in point of fact he had been " reading and studying very closely the ' Parmenides.' " As a schoolboy he had attained to an unusual mastery over the Greek language, " moving through all the obstacles and resistances of a Greek book with the same celerity and ease as through those of the French and Latin "- and he read Greek daily; " but any slight vanity which he might connect with a power so rarely attained, and which, under ordinary circumstances, so readily transmutes itseli' into a disproportionate c 34 TIIOMAS DE QUIXCEY. admiration of the author, in him was absolutely swallowed up in the tremendous hold taken of his entire sensibilities at this time by our own literature." In his ' Recollections of Coleridge ' he says, " From 1803 to 1808 I was a student at Oxford." This probably means that for those five years he remained formally on the books of Worcester College. How much of this time he spent in actual residence is not recorded, and in all likelihood cannot be ascertained. When we consider his self-determined habits of study, we see that it matters compara- tively little to know where he lived. There is a tradition that he once submitted to the written part of the Final Examination, but abruptly left Oxford without offering himself for the oral part. In the intervals of his residence at Oxford, he began to make occasional visits to London, and to get introductions to literary society. He had always been especially anxious to see Coleridge and Wordsworth. When he ran away from school, he would have gone to the Lake district, had he not scrupled to present himself in the character of a fugitive schoolboy. About Christmas 1 804-5 he had gone to London with an introduction to Charles Lamb, his final object being to procure through Lamb an introduction to Coleridge. His wishes were not gratified till later than this. He first saw Coleridge at Bristol in the autumn of 1807, and Words- worth later in the same year, at the poet's cottage in the Vale of Grasmere. In the winter of 1808-9 he took up his residence at the Lakes. Wordsworth had quitted his cottage in Grasmere for the larger house of Allan Bank, and De Quincey succeeded this illustrious tenant. He retained this cottage for seven-and-twenty years, and up to 1829 it was his principal place of residence. "From this era," he says, " through a period of about twenty years in succes- sion, I may describe my domicile as being amongst the lakes and mountains of Westmoreland. It is true, I often made excursions to London, Bath, and its neighbourhood, or northwards to Edin- burgh ; and perhaps, on an average, passed one-fourth part of each year at a distance from this district ; but here only it was that henceforwards I had a house and small establishment." A good many interesting particulars about the society of the Lakes, and his way of passing his time, are given in some papers that have not been republished ('Tait's Magazine,' 1840). From the time of his settling at the Lakes, a habit grew upon him which powerfully influenced his life. Some four years after he took up his residence at Grasmere, he became a confirmed and daily opium-eater. The rise and progress of this habit, the pleas- ures and the pains of the " pernicious drug," and the miseries of his struggle to leave it off, are related in his Opium Confessions. He had first tasted opium in 1804, as a cure for toothache. From LIFE. 35 that date up to 1812 he took opium as an occasional indulgence, " fixing beforehand how often, within a given time, and when, he would commit a debauch of opium." It was not till 1813 that opium became with him an article of daily diet ; in that year he multiplied the laudanum drams to allay " an appalling irritation of the stomach." The large doses once begun, he could not break off. He \vent on from one degree of indulgence to another, till in 1816 he was taking as much as 8000 drops of laudanum per day. Prob- jil>ly in view of his approaching marriage, he succeeded in reducing his allowance to 1000 drops. He married towards the close of 1816. Up to the midlle of 1817 he "judges himself to have been a happy man ; " and he draws a beautiful picture of the interior of his cottage in a stormy winter night, with "warm hearth-rugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies on the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audibly without." Again he seems to have lapsed into over-indulgence to have suc- cumbed to the " Circean spells " of opium. The next four years he spent in a kind of intellectual torpor, utterly incapable of sustained exertion. " But for misery and suffering," he says, " I might indeed be said to have existed in a dormant state. I sel- dom could prevail on myself to write a letter. An answer of a few words to any that I received was the utmost that I could accom- plish ; and often that not until