ed by detailed reasoning, what I alledge as the result of investigation; an investigation not totally ab. stract, or merely critical; for of his numerous productions which I perused, I could not conceive them fully, according to his mode of expression, nor remember them long, without some variation of their original form. Since Johnson, however, has said "that whoever wished to attain an English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison," Addison, has been imitated and refined on, till what was familiar has become vulgar, and what was elegant, has grown too minutely pretty, to be readily applauded or greatly relished. A style originally feeble, is sure to become more enervate in the hands of followers, who if they have the ability to imitate with exactitude, are apt to think, that they have also ability to improve on their model; and as they are told that the pre-eminent excellence of Addison's mode of writing is familiar elegance, their efforts are di rected to this point, and by striving to heighten its ease and beauty, they slide into what is vulgar, and garnish their discourse with all the pretty figures and neat turns, that could start into the fancy of a milliner's apprentice, or adorn the epistle of a lovestricken confectioner. Whatever is little, pretty and trim, must in their judgment possess the qualities of elegance; and if it has genteel dimensions, suited to the vocal orifice of a diminutive lady, its value is enhanced, and its beauty is incontestible. Why Addison's terse style should be so universal ly imitated, is easily explained from its being adapted to the most superficial and ignorant minds.· Whoever can write at all, is sure to write like Addison, if he bears resemblance to any body; as the potasters of the last century, have all written in the melodious strain of Pope, and now warble after the last Minstrel's melancholy lay. Other extremes, however, equally deformed, contemptible and ridiculous, sometimes obtain to the detriment of good writing, the depravation of a pure taste, and the obstruction of permanent excellence. The beautiful harmony of Johnson's nervous style, has imparted pleasure to every correct taste, and ex*cited the admiration of every well-constructed intel· lect: and hence, what was so highly pleasing, has naturally excited frequent imitation. All his imitators, however, like those of Addison, have copied only one of his beauties, without being sensible of the rest, or not able to produce, if they discerned them They have all carried his energy to excess, without mingling it with the superior qualities of his sublime composition; his harmony, vivacity, richness and beauty. Hence they strut in turgid pomp, without the graceful motion, majestic step, or elegant attire of their master; and rather show the affectatation and imbecility of the slave, than the ardour and faithfulness of a voluntary follower, or the free imitation of congenial greatness. Thus we have many, who make a confused noise with big words, without producing either sense or beauty; and many more, who mutter their wisdom in so trim a style and terse a phraseology, that their intended meaning scarcely finds a passage to the mind of the reader. Both excesses are reprehensible and ridiculous, and show more poverty of thought, and barrenness of invention, than any other qualities. fle who would acquire a mode of writing, elegant, nervous and flowing, must follow no master of composition with servility, nor trust wholly to his own powers for perfection. Every mind has a peculiar method of thinking, that cannot be conveyed perfectly in any style, which fashion may make a standard of excellence or a model for imitation; and he who hopes to write well, must first learn to write naturally, and according to the propensity and peculiarities of his own intellect; he may then collect images and illustrations; observe the beauties that please in celebrated authors, and endeavour to emulate them, without copying their form, stretching to the same height, or stooping to the same littleness. THE AUTHOR'S JEWEL, NUMBER XXIV. CLARA. Why did she love him? Curious fool!-be still- CLARA was the beauty of a village, where to be so distinguished, argued charms beyond the common stamp of those termed beautiful; for there were ma. ny maidens in the town remarkable for their personal endowments and natural grace; but still, Clara outshone them all. A full length miniature of her is now suspended before me while I write It was taken before her misfortunes, at the entreaty of her lover, among whose effects, after he had committed suicide, I discovered it. Her figure is rather tall and thin, more delicate, however, than emaciated The gracefulness of her form is magical. Her humid blue eyes shaded by long and dark lashes, even appear to glance on me with chastened fire, at this moment, The silky lustre of her auburn tresses, that cluster round each temple, shade a complexion of the most delicate hue and softness; while the graceful turn and beautiful form of her thin neck, are finely contrasted, by a bosom that seems to swell from the ivory, on which it is depicted. Her countenance and figure possess that ineffable character, that air so indescribable, which interests every beholder; which almost every man has seen and felt, and felt to be in. communicable. Clare was the sole surviving child of a physician, who dying while she was yet in her sixth year, left her to the care of a doating mother. She was the heir to all the sensibilities of a morbid father, who combined to a splendid genius, the most distracting susceptibility of nerve, and despondency of temper, yet bountifully gifted with the most exalted attri< butes of mind and heart, but somewhat tinged with eccentricity, and a peculiar humour of character, was destined to become a martyr to the very genius that should have procured him renown and fortune. Clara's mother knew little of the human heart; and still less of philosophy. She had been bred in ease and affluence; had mixed with the best and most fashionable company; and her refinement of manners, together with her vivacity of temper, caus ed her to pass for what is termed in every day court phraseology "a very fine woman." She was handsome, and had been beautiful. But her mind was superficial, and her heart not remarkable for its tender. |