LECTURE XIX. GENERAL CHARACTERS OF STYLE.-SIMPLE, AFFECTED, VEHEMENT.-DIRECTIONS FOR FORMING A PROPER STYLE. HAVING entered, in the last lecture, on the consideration of the general characters of style, I treated of the concise and diffuse, the nervous and feeble manner. I considered style also, with relation to the different degrees of ornament employed to beautify it, in which view, the manner of different authors rises according to the following gradation: dry, plain, neat, elegant, flowery. I am next to treat of style under another character, one of great importance in writing, and which requires to be accurately examined, that of simplicity, or a natural style, as distinguished from affectation. Simplicity, applied to writing, is a term very frequently used; but, like other critical terms, often used loosely and without precision. This has been owing chiefly to the different meanings given to the word simplicity, which, therefore, it will be necessary here to distinguish; and to show in what sense it is a proper attribate of style. We may remark four different acceptations in which it is taken. The first is, simplicity of composition, as opposed to too great a variety of parts. Horace's precept refers to this: Denique sit quod vis simplex duntaxat et unum.* This .s the simplicity of plan in a tragedy, as distinguished from Couble plots, and crowded incidents; the simplicity of the Iliad, or Eneid, in opposition to the digressions of Lucan, and the scattered tales of Ariosto; the simplicity of Grecian architecture, in opposition to the irregular variety of the Gothic. In this sense, simplicity is the same with unity. The second sense is simplicity of thought, as opposed to refinement. Simple thoughts are what arise naturally; what the occasion or the subject suggest unsought; and what, when once suggested, are easily apprehended by all. Refinement in writing, expresses a less natural and obvious train of thought, and which it required a peculiar turn of genius to pursue; within certain bounds very beau tiful; but when carried too far, approaching to intricacy, and hurting us by the appearance of being recherché, or far sought. Thus, we would naturally say, that Mr. Parnell is a poet of far greater simplicity, in his turn of thought, than Mr. Cowley; Cicero's thoughts on moral subjects are natural; Seneca's too refined and laboured. In these two senses of simplicity, when it is opposed, either to variety of parts, or to refinement of thought, it has no proper relation to style *Then learn the wandering humour to control, FRANCIS. There is a third sense of simplicity, in which it has respect to style; and stands opposed to too much ornament or pomp of language; as when we say, Mr. Locke is a simple, Mr. Hervey a florid writer; and it is in this sense, that the 'simplex,' the tenue,' or 'subtile genus dicendi,' is understood by Cicero and Quintilian. The simple style, in this sense, coincides with the plain or the neat style. which I before mentioned; and, therefore, requires no farther illus tration. But there is a fourth sense of simplicity, also, respecting style; but not respecting the degree of ornament employed, so much as the easy and natural manner in which our language expresses our thoughts. This is quite differ at from the former sense of the word just now mentioned, in which simplicity was equivalent to plainness : whereas, in this sense, it is compatible with the highest ornament. Homer, for instance, possesses this simplicity in the greatest perfection; and yet no writer has more ornament and beauty. This simplicity, which is what we are now to consider, stands opposed, not to ornament, but to affectation of ornament, or appearance of labour about our style; and it is a distinguishing excellency in writing. A writer of simplicity expresses himself in such a manner, that every one thinks he could have written in the same way; Horace describes it, ut sibt quivis Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret Ausus idem.* There are no marks of art in his expression: it seems the very language of nature; you see in the style, not the writer and his labour, but the man in his own natural character. He may be rich in his expression; he may be full of figures, and of fancy; but these flow from him without effort; and he appears to write in this manner, not because he has studied it, but because it is the manner of expression most natural to him. A certain degree of negligence, also, is not inconsistent with this character of style, and even not ungraceful in it; for too minute an attention to words is foreign to it: Habeat ille,' says Cicero, (Orat. No. 77) molle quiddam, et quod indicet non ingratam negligentiam hominis, de re magis quàm de verbo laborantis.'t This is the great advantage of simplicity of style, that, like simplicity of manners, it shows us a man's sentiments and turn of mind laid open without disguise. More studied and artificial manrers of writing, however beautiful, have always this disadvan tage, that they exhibit an author in form, like a man at court, where the splendour of dress, and the ceremonial of behaviour, conceal those peculiarities which distinguish one man from another. But reading an author of simplicity, is like conversing with a person of distinction From well-known tales such fictions would I raise, As all might hope to imitate with ease; Yet while they strive the same success to gain, FRANCIS. Let this style have a certain softness and ease, which shall characterize a negligence, not unpleasing in an author, who appears to be more solicitous about the thought than the expression. at home, and with ease, where we find natural manners, and a marked character. The highest degree of this simplicity, is expressed by a French terin, to which we have none that fully answers in our language, waiveté. It is not easy to give a precise idea of the import of this It always expresses a discovery of character. I believe the best account of it is given by a French critic, M. Marmontel, who explains it thus: That sort of amiable ingenuity, or undisguised openness, which seems to give us some degree of superiority over the person who shows it; a certain infantine simplicity, which we love in our hearts, but which displays some features of the character that we think we could have art enough to hide; and which, therefore, always leads us to smile at the person who discovers this character. La Fontaine, in his Fables, is given as the great example of such naïveté. This, however, is to be understood, as descriptive of a particular species only of simplicity. With respect to simplicity in general, we may remark, that the ancient original writers are always the most eminent for it. This hap pens from a plain reason, that they wrote from the dictates of natural genius, and were not formed upon the labours and writings of others, which is always in hazard of producing affectation. Hence, among the Greek writers, we have more models of a beautiful simplicity than among the Roman. Homer, Hesiod, Anacreon, Theocritus, Herodotus, and Xenophon, are all distinguished for it. Among the Romans also, we have some writers of this character, particular. ly Terence, Lucretius, Phædrus, and Julius Cæsar. The following passage of Terence's Andria, is a beautiful instance of simplicity of manner in description. Funus interim Procedit; sequimur; ad sepulchrum venimus; Occurrit præceps, mulierem ab igne retrahit, Mea Glycerium, inquit, quid agis? Cur tu is perditum ? Rejecit se in eum, flens quam familiariter.* All the words here are remarkably happy and elegant; and convey a most lively picture of the scene described; while, at the same time Meanwhile the funeral proceeds; we follow ; Ran to the flames with peril of her life There! there! the frighted Pamphilus betrays His well-dissembled and long hidden love; Runs up and takes her round the waist, and cries, Why, why endeavour to destroy yourself? Threw herself back into his aïms, and wept, COLMAN. Let us, next, con the style appears wholly artless and unlaboured. Simplicity is the great beauty of Archbishop Tillotson's manner. Tillotson has long been admired as an eloquent writer, and a model for preaching. But his eloquence, if we can call it such, has been often misunderstood. For, if we include in the idea of eloquence, vehemence and strength, picturesque description, glowing figures, or correct arrangement of sentences, in all these parts of oratory the Archbishop is exceedingly deficient. His style is always pure, indeed, and perspicuous, but careless and remiss; too often feeble and languid; little beauty in the construction of his sentences, which are frequently suffered to drag unharmoniously; seldom any attempt tewards strength or sublimity. But, notwithstanding these defects. such a constant vein of good sense and piety runs through his works, such an earnest and serious manner, and so much useful instruction conveyed in a style so pure, natural, and unaffected, as will justly recommend him to high regard, as long as the English language remains; not, indeed, as a model of the highest eloquence, but as a simple and amiable writer, whose manner is strongly expressive of great goodness and worth. I observed before, that simplicity of manner may be consistent with some degree of negligence in style, and it is only the beauty of that simplicity which makes the negligence of such writers seem graceful. But, as appears in the Archbishop, negligence may sometimes be carried so far as to impair the beauty of simplicity, and make it border on a flat and languid manner. Sir William Temple is another remarkable writer in the style of simplicity. In point of ornament and correctness, he rises a degree above Tillotson; though, for correctness, he is not in the highest rank. All is easy and flowing in him; he is exceedingly harmonious; smoothness, and what may be called amenity, are the distinguishing characters of his manner; relaxing, sometimes, as such a manner will naturally do, into a prolix and remiss style. No writer whatever has stamped upon his style a more lively impression of his own character. In reading his works, we seem engaged in conversation with him; we become thoroughly acquainted with him, not merely as an author, but as a man; and contract a friendship for him. He may be classed as standing in the middle, between a negligent simplicity, and the highest degree of ornament, which this character of style admits. Of the latter of these, the highest, most correct, and ornamented degree of the simple manner, Mr. Addison, is, beyond doubt, in the English language, the most perfect example: and, therefore, though not without some faults, he is, on the whole, the safest model for imitation, and the freest from considerable defects, which the language affords. Perspicuous and pure, he is in the highest degree: his precision, indeed, not very great, yet nearly as great as the subjects which he treats of require; the construction of his sentences easy, agreeable, and commonly very musical; carrying a character of smoothness more than of strength. In figurative language, he is rich particularly in similes and metaphors; which are so emplov ed, as to render his style splendid, without being gaudy. There is not the least affectation in his manner; we see no marks of labout: nothing force or constrained; but great elegance, joined with great ease and simplicity. He is, in particular, distinguished by a character of modesty, and of politeness, which appears in all his writings. No author has a more popular and insinuating manner; and the great regard which he every where shows for virtue and religion, recommends him highly. If he fails in any thing, it is in want of strength and precision, which renders his manner, though perfectly suited to such essays as he writes in the Spectator, not altogether a proper model for any of the higher and more elaborate kinds of composition. Though the public have ever done much justice to his merit, yet the nature of his merit has not always been seen in its true light; for, though his poetry be elegant, he certainly bears a higher rank among the prose writers, than he is entitled to among the poets; and, in prose, his humour is of a much higher, and more original strain, than his philosophy. The character of Sir Roger de Coverly discovers more genius than the critique on Milton. Such authors as those, whose characters I have been giving, one is never tired of reading. There is nothing in their manner that strains or fatigues our thoughts; we are pleased, without being dazzled by their lustre. So powerful is the charm of simplicity, in an author of real genius, that it atones for many defects, and reconciles us to many a careless expression. Hence, in all the most excellent authors, both in prose and verse, the simple and natural manner may be always remarked; although other beauties being predominant, this forms not their peculiar and distinguishing character. Thus Milton is simple in the midst of all his grandeur; and Demosthenes in the midst of all his vehemence. To grave and solemn writings, simplicity of manner adds the more venerable air. Accora ngly, this has often been remarked as the prevailing character throughout all the sacred scriptures; and, indeed, no other character of style was so much suited to the dignity of inspiration. Of authors who, notwithstanding many excellencies, have rendered their style much less beautiful by want of simplicity, I cannot give a more remarkable example than Lord Shaftesbury. This is an author on whom I have made observations several times before, and shall now take leave of him, with giving his general character under this head. Considerable merit, doubtless, he has. His works might be read with profit for the moral philosophy which they contain, had he not filled them with so many oblique and invidious insinuations against the christian religion; thrown out, too, with so much spleen and satire, as do no honour to his memory, either as an author or a man. His language has many beauties. It is firm, and supported in an uncommon degree; it is rich and musical. No English author, as I formerly showed, has attended so much to the regular construction of his sentences, both with respect to propriety, and with respect to cadence. All this gives so much elegance and pomp to his language, that there is no wonder it should have seen |