288

LECTURE XX.

CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF THE STYLE OF MR. ADDISON, IN No. 411 OF THE SPECTATOR.

I HAVE insisted fully on the subject of Language and Style, both, because it is, in itself, of great importance, and because it is more capable of being ascertained by precise rule, than several other parts of composition. A critical analysis of the Style of some good author will tend further to illustrate the subject; as it will suggest observations which I have not had occasion to make, and will show, in the most practical light, the use of those which I have made.

Mr. Addison is the author whom I have chosen for this purpose. The Spectator, of which his papers are the chief ornament, is a book which is in the hands of every one, and which cannot be praised too highly. The good sense, and good writing, the useful morality, and the admirable vein of humour which abound in it, render it one of those standard books which have done the greatest honour to the English nation. I have formerly given the general character of Mr. Addison's Style and manner, as natural and unaffected, easy and polite, and full of those graces which a flowery imagination diffuses over writing. At the same time, though one of the most beautiful writers in the Language, he is not the most correct; a circumstance which renders his composition the more proper to be the subject of our present criticism. The free and flowing manner of this amiable writer sometimes led him into inaccuracies, which the more studied circumspection and care of far inferior writers have taught them to avoid. Remarking his beauties, therefore, which I shall have frequent occasion to do as I proceed, I must also point out his negligences and defects. Without a free, impartial discussion of both the faults and

beauties which occur in his composition, it is evident, this piece of criticism would be of no service: and, from the freedom which I use in criticising Mr. Addison's Style, none can imagine, that I mean to depreciate his writings, after having repeatedly declared the high opinion which I entertain of them. The beauties of this author are so many, and the general character of his Style is so elegant and estimable, that the minute imperfections I shall have occasion to point out, are but like those spots in the sun which may be discovered by the assistance of art, but which have no effect in obscuring its lustre. It is, indeed, my judgment, that what Quintilian applies to Cicero, "Ille se profecisse sciat, cui, Cicero valde placebit," may, with justice, be applied to Mr. Addison; that to be highly pleased with his manner of writing, is the criterion of one's having acquired a good taste in English Style. The paper on which we are now to enter, is No. 411, the first of his celebrated Essays on the Pleasures of the Imagination, in the Sixth Volume of the Spectator. It begins thus:

"Our sight is the most perfect, and most delightful of all

❝ our senses."

This is an excellent introductory sentence. It is clear, precise, and simple. The author lays down, in a few plain words, the proposition which he is going to illustrate throughout the rest of the paragraph. In this manner, we should always set out. A first sentence should seldom be a long, and never an intricate one.

He might have said, Our sight is the most perfect, and the most delightful. But he has judged better in omitting to repeat the article, the. For the repetition of it is proper, chiefly when we intend to point out the objects, of which we speak, as distinguished from, or contrasted with, each other; and when we want that the reader's attention should rest on that distinction. For instance; had Mr. Addison intended to say, That our sight is at once the most delightful, and the most useful, of all our senses, the article might then have been repeated with propriety, as a clear and strong distinction would have been conveyed. But as between perfect and delightful, there is less contrast, there was no occasion for such repetition. It would have

had no other effect, but to add a word unnecessarily to the sentence. He proceeds:

"It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses "with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the "longest in action, without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments."

This sentence deserves attention, as remarkably harmonious, and well constructed. It possesses, indeed, almost all the properties of a perfect sentence. It is entirely perspicuous. It is loaded with no superfluous or unnecessary words. For, tired or satiated, towards the end of the sentence, are not used for synónimous terms. They convey distinct ideas, and refer to different members of the period; that this sense continues the longest in action without being tired, that is, without being fatigued with its action; and also, without being satiated with its proper enjoyments. That quality of a good sentence, which I termed its unity, is here perfectly preserved. It is our sight of which he speaks. This is the object carried through the sentence, and presented to us, in every member of it, by those verbs, fills, converses, continues, to each of which it is clearly the nominative. Those capital words are disposed of in the most proper places; and that uniformity is maintained in the construction of the sentence, which suits the unity of the object.

Observe, too, the music of the period; consisting of three members, each of which, agreeably to a rule I formerly mentioned, grows, and rises above the other in sound, till the sentence is conducted, at last, to one of the most melodious closes which our Language admits; without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments. Enjoyments, is a word of length and dignity, exceedingly proper for a close which is designed to be a musical one. The harmony is the more happy, as this disposition of the members of the period which suits the sound so well, is no less just and proper with respect to the sense. It follows the order of nature. First, we have the variety of objects mentioned, which sight furnishes to the mind; next, we have the action of sight on those objects; and lastly, we have the time and continuance of its action. No order could be more natural and happy.

This sentence has still another beauty. It is figurative, without being too much so for the subject. A metaphor runs through it. The sense of sight is, in some degree, personified. We are told of its conversing with its objects: and of its not being tired or satiated with its enjoyments; all which expressions are plain allusions to the actions and feelings of men. This is that slight sort of personification, which, without any appearance of boldness, and without elevating the fancy much above its ordinary state, renders discourse picturesque, and leads us to conceive the author's meaning more distinctly, by clothing abstract ideas, in some degree, with sensible colours. Mr. Addison abounds with this beauty of Style beyond most authors ; and the sentence which we have been considering, is very expressive of his manner of writing. There is no blemish in it whatever, unless that a strict critic might perhaps object, that the epithet large, which he applies to variety-the largest variety of ideas, is an epithet more commonly applied to extent than to number. It is plain, that he here employed it to avoid the repetition of the word great, which occurs immediately afterwards.

"The sense of feeling can, indeed give us a notion of ex"tension, shape, and all other ideas that enter at the eye, ex

cept colours; but, at the same time, it is very much strait"ened and confined, in its operations, to the number, bulk, "and distance of its particular objects."

This sentence is by no means so happy as the former. It is, indeed, neither clear nor elegant. Extension and shape can, with no propriety, be called ideas; they are properties of matter. Neither is it accurate, even according to Mr. Locke's philosophy, (with which our Author seems here to have puzzled himself, to speak of any sense giving us a notion of ideas; our senses give us the ideas themselves. The meaning would have been much more clear, if the Author had expressed himself thus: "The sense of feeling can, indeed, give us the idea of "extension, figure, and all the other properties of matter which "are perceived by the eye, except colours."

The latter part of the sentence is still more embarrassed. For what meaning can we make of the sense of feeling, being can

fined, in its operation, to the number, bulk, and distance, of its par ticular objects? Surely, every sense is confined, as much as the sense of feeling, to the number, bulk, and distance of its own objects. Sight and feeling are, in this respect, perfectly on a level; neither of them can extend beyond its own objects. The turn of expression is so inaccurate here, that one would be apt to suspect two words to have been omitted in the printing, which were originally in Mr. Addison's manuscript; because the insertion would render the sense much more intelligible and clear. These two words are, with regard:-it is very much straitened, and confined, in its operations, with regard to the number, bulk, and distance of its particular objects. The meaning then would be, that feeling is more limited than sight in this respect; that it is confined to a narrower circle, to a smaller number of objects.

The epithet particular, applied to objects, in the conclusion of the sentence, is redundant, and conveys no meaning whatever. Mr. Addison seems to have used it in place of peculiar, as indeed he does often in other passages of his writings. But particular and peculiar, though they are too often confounded, are words of different import from each other. Particular stands opposed to general; peculiar stands opposed to what is possessed in common with others. Particular, expresses what in the logical Style is called Species ;' peculiar, what is called differentia. Its peculiar objects would have signified in this place, the objects of the sense of feeling, as distinguished from the objects of any other sense; and would have had more meaning than its particular objects. Though, in truth, neither the one nor the other epithet was requisite. It was sufficient to have said simply, its objects.

"Our sight seems designed to supply all these defects, and may be considered as a more delicate and diffusive kind of "touch, that spreads itself over an infinite multitude of bodies, "comprehends the largest figures, and brings into our reach “ some of the most remote parts of the universe."

Here again the author's Style returns upon us in all its beauty. This is a sentence distinct, graceful, well arranged, and highly musical. In the latter part of it, it is constructed with three members, which are formed much in the same manner