in his day an unparalleled wit and scholar, "the darling of the Muses." His manner of writing, which is in a high degree affected, full of antithesis and quaint sayings, recommended him to the fashionables of his age. He was a favourite at Court, "was heard, graced, and rewarded by Elizabeth." Such, indeed, was his celebrity, that a manner of writing and speaking in imitation of his style was called Euphueism, from the name of his most popular romance. I have thought him worthy of mention, since his celebrity, though shortlived, must have given his writings some influence on English style.

The following extract is from the romance before mentioned. Euphues had inveighed against women to his friend Philautus; afterwards he becomes enamoured of English beauties, and is thus reproached by Philautus:

"Stay, Euphues, I can level at the thoughts of thy heart by the words of thy mouth; for that commonly the tongue uttereth the mind, and outward speech betrayeth the inward spirit. For as a good root is known by a fair blossom, so is the substance of the heart noted by the shew of the countenance. I can see day at a little hole; thou must halt cunningly if thou beguile a cripple; but I cannot choose but laugh when I see thee play with the bait that I fear thou hast swallowed, thinking with a mist to make my sight blind, because I should not perceive thy eyes bleared.

"A burnt child dreadeth the fire; he that stumbleth twice at one stone is worthy to break his shins; thou mayest happily forswear thyself, but thou shalt never delude me; I know thee now as readily by thy visard as by thy visage; it is a blind goose that knoweth not a fox from a fern-bush, and a foolish fellow that cannot discern craft from conscience, being once cozened. But why should I lament thy follies with grief, when thou seemest to colour them with deceit ? Ah, Euphues, I love thee well, but thou hatest thyself, and seekest to heap more harms on thy head by a little wit, than thou shalt ever claw off by thy great wisdom. All fire is not quenched by water; thou hast not love in a string; affection is not thy slave; thou canst not leave when thou listest. With what face, Euphues,

tanst thou return to thy vomit, seeming with the greedy hound to

lap up that which thou didst cast up? I am ashamed to rehearse the terms that once thou didst utter of malice against women, and art thou not ashamed, now again, to recant them? They must needs think thee either envious upon small occasion, or amorous upon a light cause; and then will they all be as ready to hate thee for thy spite, as to laugh at thee for thy looseness.

"No, Euphues, so deep a wound cannot be healed by so light a plaster; thou mayest by art recover the skin, but thou canst never cover the scar; thou mayest flatter with fools because thou art wise, but the wise will ever mark thee for a fool."

During the reign of Elizabeth, several distinguished antiquarians and historians appeared. The writings of this class which acquired the greatest celebrity, and which still remain to us, are Holinshed's ChroniclesStow's Survey of London, and Camden's Britannia. These works discover great industry and research, and are the sources from which modern historians have drawn largely.

The only extract I shall make is from Holinshed's Chronicles, a digression on the use of Venetian glasses:

"It is a world to see in these our days, wherein gold and silver most aboundeth, that our gentility as lothing those metals (because of the plenty), do now generally choose rather the Venice glasses both for our wine and beer, than any of those metals or stone wherein beforetime we have been accustomed to drink; but such is the nature of man generally, that it most coveteth things difficult to be attained; and such is the estimation of this stuff, that many become rich only with their new trade unto Murana (a town near to Venice, situate on the Adriatic sea), from whence the very best are daily to be had, and such as for beauty do well near match the crystal or the ancient Murrhina vasa, whereof now no man hath knowledge. And as this is seen in the gentility, so in the wealthy community the like desire of glass is not neglected, whereby the gain gotten by their purchase is much more increased to the benefit of the merchant. The poorest also will have glass if they may, but sith the Venetian is somewhat too dear for them, they content themselves with such as are made at home of fern and burnt stone; but in fine, all go one way, that is, to shards at the last; so that our great expenses in glasses (beside that they breed much strife towards those who have the charge of them) are worse of all bestowed,

in mine opinion, because their pieces do turn unto no profit. If the philosophers' stone were once found, and one part hereof mixed with forty of molten glass, it would induce such a metallic toughness thereunto, that a fall should nothing hurt it in such a manner, yet it might peradventure bunch or batter it; nevertheless, that inconvenience were quickly to be redressed by the hammer. But whither am I slipped?"

"In

There yet remains to be mentioned, among the distinguished men of this reign, the venerable Hooker. And it is pleasing evidence of the advance of the English nation in intelligence and learning, that a work written with the ability, sound thought, and extensive knowledge, found in the Ecclesiastical Polity, was rightly appreciated at the time of its publication; while its continued reputation is evidence how justly this celebrity was deserved. Perhaps the most fit encomium ever passed upon this work is that of King James. it," says he," there is no affectation of language; it is a clear, grave, and comprehensive manifestation of reason. As a piece of composition it is injured by the inversions of clauses, and the imitation of foreign idioms, which cause it to appear rough and unpolished, and at times intricate and obscure. But in the midst of these faults are found a dignity, and force, and elevation of style, which are redeeming excellences. There are also occasional passages of striking beauty and sublimity."

These peculiarities of the style of Hooker, may be seen in the following passage, in which he speaks of those, who would disparage the light of reason :—

"But so it is, the name of the light of reason is made hateful with men; the star of reason and learning, and all other such like helps, beginneth no otherwise to be thought of, than if it were an unlucky comet; or as if God had so accursed it, that it should never shine, or give light in things concerning our duty in any way towards him, but be esteemed as that star in the Revelations, called Wormwood; which being fallen from Heaven, maketh rivers and

waters in which it falleth, so bitter, that men tasting them die thereof. A number there are, who think that they cannot admire as they ought the power and authority of the word of God, if in things divine, they should attribute any force to man's reason. For which cause they never use reason so willingly as to disgrace reason. Their usual and common discourses are to this effect. The natural man perceiveth not the things of the spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him, neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. By these and the like disputes, an opinion hath spread itself very far into the world; as if the way to be ripe in faith, were to be raw in wit and judgment; as if reason were an enemy unto religion, childish simplicity the mother of ghostly and divine wisdom."

The following passage on death has much simplicity and smoothness :

"Is there any man of worth and virtue, though not instructed in the school of Christ, or ever taught what the soundness of religion meaneth, that had not rather end the days of this transitory life, as Cyrus in Xenophon, and in Plato Socrates, are described, than to sink down with them, of whom Elihu hath said, momento moriuntur, there is scarce an instant between their flourishing and not being? But let us, who know what it is to die as Absalom or Ananias and Sapphira died; let us beg of God, that when the hour of our rest is come, the patterns of our dissolution may be Jacob, Moses, Joshua, David, who, leisurably ending their lives in peace, prayed for the mercies of God to come upon their posterity; replenished the hearts of those nearest unto them with words of memorable consolation; strengthened men in the fear of God, gave them wholesome instructions of life, and confirmed them in true religion; in sum, taught the world no less virtuously how to die, than they had done before how to live."

If we now look on the examples of style during the reign of Elizabeth, we perceive that English style had not as yet assumed any distinct and well defined character. It is not formed on any one model. And when we notice the prevalent faults of the best writers of this period, who are characterized either by a rambling, forceless manner of expression, or by intricacy, harshness, and obscurity, we feel convinced that it is fortunate this is the case. While different writers have each

contributed something to the advancement of English style, there is no one, who could with advantage have been looked upon as a standard.

REIGN OF JAMES I.

Most of the writers who flourished during this reign, bear a resemblance to each other, not in any common excellences of style, but in certain pervading defects. Unnatural conceits, antitheses, and ornaments, are characteristic traits. The absurd custom of introducing Latin quotations, on all occasions, is very prevalent, and thus common thoughts are frequently expressed in an imposing, affected manner. I purpose, therefore, to make several extracts, illustrative of these peculiarities of style, with slight notices of the authors quoted.

The first extract is from a work, which may well be called a literary curiosity, showing the most rare variety and extent of literary attainments, and an uncommon, though eccentric genius. I may also add, a work, the style of which, though strongly marked by some of the faults just mentioned, possesses valuable traits. I refer to Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, from which the following extract is made:

:

"Thus much I say of myself, and that I hope without all suspicion of pride or self-conceit; I have lived a silent, solitary, private life, mihi et musis, in the University, as long almost as Xenocrates in Athens, ad senectam fere, to learn wisdom as he did, penned up most part in my study. Thirty years I have continued (having the use of as good libraries as ever he had) a scholar, and would be therefore loth, either by living as a drone, to be an unprofitable or unworthy member of such a society, or to write that which would be any ways dishonourable to such a royal and ample foundation. Something I have done, though by my profession a divine, yet turbine raptus ingenii, as he said, out of a running wit, an inconstant, unsettled mind, I had a great desire (not able to attain to a superficial skill in any) to have some smattering in all, to be aliquis in omnibus, nullus in singulis; which Plato commends, out of him Lipsius approves, and further "as fit to be imprinted in all curious

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