which comprehends Plato and Aristotle under one article as to style*. Cicero and Quinctilian make also a threefold division of style, though with respect to different qualities of it; in which they are followed by most of the modern writers on rhetoric; the Simplex, Tenue, or Subtile; the Grave or Vehemens; and the Medium, or Temperatum genus dicendi. But these divisions, and the illustrations they give of them, are so loose and general, that they cannot advance us much in our ideas of style. I shall endeavour to be a little more particular in what I have to say on this subject.

ONE of the first and most obvious distinctions of the different kinds of style, is what arises from an author's spreading out his thoughts more or less. This distinction forms, what are called, the diffuse and the concise styles. A concise writer compresses his thoughts into the fewest possible words; he seeks to employ none but such as are most expressive; he lops off, as redundant, every expression which does not add something material to the sense. Ornament he does not reject; he may be lively and figured; but his ornament is intended for the sake of force, rather than grace. He never gives you the same thought twice. He places it in the light which appears to him the most striking; but if you do not apprehend it well in that light, you need not expect to find it in

* De Compositione Verborum, cap. 25.

any other. His sentences are arranged with compactness and strength, rather than with cadence and harmony. The utmost precision is studied in them; and they are commonly designed to suggest more to the reader's imagination than they directly express.

A DIFFUSE writer unfolds his thought fully. He places it in a variety of lights, and gives the reader, every possible assistance for understanding it completely. He is not very careful to express it at first in its full strength; because he is to repeat the impression; and what he wants in strength, he proposes to supply by copiousness. Writers of this character generally love magnificence and amplification. Their periods naturally run out into some length; and having room for ornament of every kind, they admit it freely.

EACH of these manners has its peculiar advantages; and each becomes faulty when carried to the extreme. The extreme of conciseness becomes abrupt and obscure; it is apt also to lead into a style too pointed, and bordering on the epigrammatic. The extreme of diffuseness becomes weak and languid, and tires the reader. However, to one or other of these two manners, a writer may lean according as his genius prompts him; and under the general character of a concise, or of a more open and diffuse style, may possess much beauty in his composition.

FOR illustrations of these general characters, I can only refer to the writers who are examples of them. It is not so much from detached passages, such as I was wont formerly to quote for instances, as from the current of an author's style, that we are to collect the idea of a formed manner of writing. The two most remarkable examples that I know, of couciseness carried as far as propriety will allow, perhaps in some cases farther, are Tacitus the historian, and the President Montesquieu in "L'Esprit de Loix." Aristotle too holds an eminent rank among didactic writers for his brevity. Perhaps no writer in the world was ever so frugal of his words as Aristotle; but this frugality of expression frequently darkens his meaning. Of a beautiful and magnificent diffuseness, Cicero is, beyond doubt, the most illustrious instance that can be given. Addison also, and Sir William Temple, come in some degree under this class.

IN judging when it is proper to lean to the concise, and when to the diffuse manner, we must be directed by the nature of the composition. Discourses that are to be spoken, require a more copious style than books that are to be read. When the whole meaning must be catched from the mouth of the speaker, without the advantage which books afford of pausing at pleasure, and reviewing what appears obscure, great conciseness is always to be avoided. We should never presume too much on the quickness of our hearer's understanding;

but our style ought to be such, that the bulk of men can go along with us easily, and without effort. A flowing copious style, therefore, is required in all public speakers; guarding, at the same time, against such a degree of diffusion as renders them languid and tiresome; which will always prove the case, when they inculcate too much, and present the same thought under too many different views.

IN written compositions, a certain degree of conciseness possesses great advantages. It is more lively; keeps up attention; makes a brisker and stronger impression; and gratifies the mind by supplying more exercise to a reader's own thought. A sentiment which, expressed diffusely, will barely be admitted to be just, expressed concisely, will be admired as spirited. Description, when we want to have it vivid and animated, should be in a concise strain. This is different from the common opinion; most persons being ready to suppose, that upon description a writer may dwell more safely than upon other things, and that by a full and extended style, it is rendered more rich and expressive. I apprehend, on the contrary, that a diffuse manner generally weakens it. Any redundant words or circumstances encumber the fancy, and make the object we present to it, appear confused and indistinct. Accordingly, the most masterly decribers, Homer, Tacitus, Milton, are almost always concise in their descriptions. They shew

us more of an object at one glance, than a feeble diffuse writer can shew, by turning it round and round in a variety of lights. The strength and vivacity of description, whether in prose or poetry, depend much more upon the happy choice of one or two striking circumstances, than upon the multiplication of them.

ADDRESSES to the passions, likewise, ought to be in the concise, rather than the diffuse manner. In these, it is dangerous to be diffuse, because it is very difficult to support proper warmth for any length of time. When we become prolix, we are always in hazard of cooling the reader. The heart, too, and the fancy, run fast; and if once we can put them in motion, they supply many particulars to greater advantage than an author can display them. The case is different when we address ourselves to the understanding: as in all matters of reasoning, explication, and instruction. There I would prefer a more free and diffuse manner. When you are to strike the fancy, or to move the heart, be concise; when you are to inform the understanding, which moves more slowly, and requires the assistance of a guide, it is better to be full. Historical narration may be beautiful, either in a concise or a diffuse manner, according to the writer's genius. Livy and Herodotus are diffuse; Thucydides and Sallust are succinct; yet all of them are agreeable.