There are two great faults in reading which people fall into naturally; and there is another fault which is the work of art, as bad, in my opinion, as either of the former: it is common with those who are untaught, or ill taught, to have a bad ear, to read in a lifeless insipid tone, without any of those artificial turnings of the voice which give force and grace to what is delivered. When a boy takes a book into his hand he quits his natural speech, and either falls into a whining canting tone, or assumes a stiff and formal manner, which has nether life nor meaning. Observe the same boy when he is at play with his companions, disputing, reasoning, accusing, or applauding, and you will hear him utter all his words with the flexures which are proper to the occasion, as nature and passion, and the matter dictates. Why does he not read as forcibly as he speaks? This he would soon do, if he were to consider, that reading is but another sort of talking. He that reads, talks out of a book; and he that talks, reads without book; this is all the difference: therefore let a boy consider with himself, how he would talk what he is reading, and then he will drop the formal tone he had assumed, and pronounce easily and naturally.

The sense of a passage depends so much on the emphasis with which it is uttered, that if you read without emphasis, the matter is dead and unaffecting : if you lay it on the wrong word, you alter the sense. Trite examples have been given of sentences which have as many meanings as words when the emphasis is differently placed. Thus, if the question were asked, Do you ride to London to-day? Place the accent on the first word, the sense is, Do you; or do you not? If you place it on the second, it means, Do you go yourself; or does somebody else go for you? Lay it on the third, it means, Do you go on horseback, or on

foot, &c.? On the fourth, it asks, whether you go so far as London, or only part of the way? On the fifth, it is, do you ride to London, or to some other place ? If you lay it on the two last, it asks, whether you go there to-day, or at some other time?

This example is sufficient to shew, that you must understand the meaning of a sentence before you can pronounce it right; and that if you pronounce it wrong the meaning cannot be understood by another person. To hear any one reading in a single unvaried note or monotone, without expressing the sense, is like looking upon a right line which has no variety of flexure to entertain the eye; and if he reads with a false emphasis, he makes the sense absurd and ridiculous. Many instances have been reported to illustrate this absurdity. They tell us of a reader, who in delivering that passage of Scripture from the reading-desk, "He said unto them, saddle the ass, and they saddled him," unfortunately laid the accent on the last word; by which the sentence was made to signify, that the man was saddled instead of his beast.

The want of art and skill, especially in a matter where it is of real consequence, is unpardonable in a person of a liberal education: but it is equally offensive to be read with too much art. Ne quid nimis, is to be observed here as in other cases. Affectation is disgusting wherever it is to be found; it betrays a want of judgment in the speaker, and none ever admire it but the illiterate, who are not prepared to make proper distinctions. We are never more justly offended, than when an attempt is made to surprise us with unreasonable rant, with grimace and distortion, and such other emotions as are not justified by the matter deli- . vered, and destroy the effect of it with those who have judgment to see through the artifice. When a speaker

seems to expect that I should be surprised, and I am not; when he shews me, that he is endeavouring to lead my passions where they cannot follow, it occasions a very disagreeable sensation. Affectation, though it is always out of place, and seldom fails to defeat its own intentions, is never more so than when it appears in the pulpit or the reading-desk; where it is shocking to see the airs of the theatre, and to hear a preacher enforcing his observations with the voice of an actress expiring upon the stage.

What is unnatural cannot be just; and nothing can be affecting which is not natural. Therefore in all reading, we must have regard to the sense, to the matter, and the occasion: then we shall read with propriety, and what we deliver will have the proper effect.

One rule ought never to be forgotten: that the reader or speaker should seem to feel in himself what he delivers to others; si vis me flere dolendum est ipsi tibi. The principle is certain, and even mechanical; for in all machines, no part moves another without being first moved itself. This is the soul of all elocution, with which a common beggar at a door has the powers of an orator, and without which, all the rules of art are cold and insignificant. A barrel-organ can be made to play a most elaborate piece of music truly and correctly; but the sounds want that animation which they receive from the finger of a living player, who is himself delighted with what he is performing.

For practice in reading, a plain narrative has not variety enough to exercise the different turns of the voice: speeches, reasonings, controversies, and dialogues are more proper; and there is great choice in the Scriptures. The speeches of St. Paul to Agrippa, Festus, and the Jews; his reasonings in the Epistle to

the Romans; the conversation of the Jews with the man that was born blind; are all excellent to teach propriety and force of expression. Some of the Night-Thoughts of Dr. Young are so difficult, that they cannot be expressed without some study and a perfect understanding of the sense; but when understood, they will contribute much to farther improvement. I am cautious of recommending speeches in plays; not only because the matter is too often corrupting, but because there is danger of falling from thence into an affected over-strained manner, which is always to be avoided.

The prose pieces of Swift are so correct and humorous, and are stored with such variety of speech, reasoning, and dialogue, that they cannot be read without advantage; and therefore I would recommend them to your perusal for this purpose. In a future letter I shall give you some advice about style and composition.

LETTER VIII.

ON STYLE.

By a style in writing we mean that language in which an author expresses the matter he is writing upon; and a good style is constituted by proper words in proper places.

A complete sentence is called a period; which consists of several members or clauses, and those membérs are composed of single words. Short periods are fit for light and familiar compositions, as epistles and

dialogues. Long periods are proper to more grave and stately discourses, as set speeches, historical narrations, and moral or theological essays. It is a great point of art, and requires much experience, to accommodate the length and form of a period to the matter treated of, or the particular passion to which the writer addresses himself. These are niceties which I shall not dwell upon, as belonging more properly to the figures of rhetoric; but give you, instead of them, this general rule, that no period ought to be so long, or so complicated, as to be obscure; for darkness in language, like the darkness of the night, takes away the sight of all objects, so that they are without effect, however great and excellent they may be in themselves. To avoid this evil, be sure that you understand the connection of what you say, and forbear to embarrass your sentences with frequent and impertinent parentheses, which happen only because your ideas are not regularly disposed in your mind when you commit them to paper. You must also be clear in the grammar of your expressions, for false grammar defiles a sentence, and admits of no apology. The best word you can use to denote any thing is that word which is applied to it in the common conversation of those who speak correctly in their own language. If there is a native English word for your purpose, always use it in preference to one of Greek or Roman extraction. You cannot imagine how the sense of any discourse is weakened by superfluous words, unnecessary epithets, and far-fetched expressions. Nothing but pedantry and affection can tempt you to use debility instead of weakness; stolidity for foolishness; or puerility for childishness; unless, perhaps, on some occasions, when we are driven to a variety of terms to avoid the poverty of repetition.