quisite for good composition, the venerable HOOKER claims the highest station among the writers of Elizabeth's reign. If his language abound too much in inversions, it yet possesses a dignity and force, and in general an attention to grammatical accuracy, hitherto unknown to our literature. Even in the present day it may be read and admired: Lowth has spoken highly of its merits; and Webb in his Literary Amusements thus beautifully expresses his opinion: Come, Hooker, with thee let me dwell on a phrase The style of Hooker, however, is not without some striking defects: though the words for the most part are well chosen and pure, the arrange ment of them into sentences is intricate and harsh, and formed almost exclusively on the idiom and construction of the Latin. Much strength and vigour are derived from this adoption; but perspicuity, sweetness, and ease are too generally sacrificed. There is, notwithstanding these usual features of his composition, an occasional simplicity in his pages, both of style and sentiment, which truly charms. The opening of the preface to his Ecclesiastical Polity is a striking instance of that elaborate collocation, which, founded on the structure of a language widely different from our own, was now the fashion of the age: "Though for no other cause, yet for this, that posterity may know we have not loosely, through silence, permitted things to pass away as in a dream, there shall be, for men's information, extant this much concerning the present state of the church of God established amongst us, and their careful endeavours which would have upheld the same." It is not, however, in every page that this forced construction is to be met with; as a specimen of style not very uncommon in the works of Hooker, and approaching much nearer to the idiom of his native tongue, the following passage may be adduced : "Death is that which all men suffer, but not all men with one mind, neither all men in one manner. For being of necessity a thing common, it is through the manifold persuasions, dispositions, and occasions of men, with equal desert both of praise and dispraise, shunned by some, by others desired. So that absolutely we cannot discommend, we cannot absolutely approve, either willingness to live, or forwardness to die. And concerning the ways of death, albeit the choice thereof be only in his hands, who alone hath power over all flesh, and unto whose appointment we ought with patience meekly to submit ourselves (for to be agents voluntarily in our own destruction, is against both God and nature); yet there is no doubt, but in so great variety, our desires will and may lawfully prefer one kind before another. Is there any man of worth and virtue, although 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, or 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 which know what it is to die, as Absalon, 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, leisureably ending their lives in peace, prayed for the mercies of God to come upon their posterity; replenished the hearts of the 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*." Of the occasional sublimity and beauty both in thought and diction, which enliven the folio of Hooker, some evidence may be deemed necessary. I therefore bring forward the annexed sentence, as a proof of energy and felicity of construction inferior to no subsequent attempts: "Of law, there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world. All things in heaven and earth do her homage; the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power. Both angels and men, and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different sort and manner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy +." The ease, simplicity, and sweetness, which mark the diction of the next example, together with the exquisite sentiment which terminates it, cannot be sufficiently admired. Soliciting the archbishop for retirement from the temple for the purpose of study, he observes, "I have searched many books, and spent many thoughtful hours; and I hope not in vain; for I *Book v. p. 250, edition of 1682. + Vide p. 103. write to reasonable men. But, my lord, I shall never be able to finish what I have begun, unless I be removed into some quiet country parsonage, where I may see God's blessings spring out of my mother earth, and eat mine own bread in peace and privacy *." From a contemporary author of higher rank, ́and of eminent knowledge of the world, the celebrated but unfortunate SIR WALTER RALEIGH, a style more consonant to the genius of the language, and approximating nearer to present usage, may naturally be expected. "Raleigh," remarks Hume, "is the best model of that ancient style, which some writers would affect to revive at present." The observation is well founded; the diction of Raleigh is more pure and perspicuous, and more free from inversions, than that of any other writer of the age of Elizabeth or James the First. A couple of extracts from his great work, "The History of the World," which was published in April 1614, will fully confirm this opinion. He thus describes the passage of Xerxes over the Hellespont, when marching against the liberties of Greece: "He gave order, that a bridge upon boats * Walton's Life of Hooker, prefixed to the Ecclesiastical Polity, p. 17. |