ART. V. Literary Leisure, or the Recreations of Solomon Saunter, Esq. 8vo. 2 Vols. 12s. Boards. Miller. 1802.

A CIRCUMSTANCE attending these volumes involves us in some little embarrassment, in giving our opinion of them! but we shall endeavour to manage this difficult case to the satisfaction of the author and the public. Know, gentle reader, that Mr. Solomon Saunter has dedicated this production of his leisure hours to the Editors of the Monthly Review,' in terms of warm commendation on their literary labours: artfully adding, in reference to the general custom of making some acknowlegement for complimentary dedications, that the present of a set of the Monthly Review would be to him an invaluable acquisition, and insure his everlasting gratitude. Thus situated, the functions of our critical office must in a great measure remain inactive on the present occasion; for, though the author, with a modesty which may be either real or assumed, declares that he means to profit by our admonitions, and either to write better in future or to write no more; how can we censure where correction would appear so ungracious, or commend where praise would be so suspicious? We shall, therefore, merely introduce the author and his work to our readers, and enable them, by some extracts, to form their own judgment of its merit.

Solomon Saunter, Esq. if we may take his own word, is 'an idle man, a valetudinarian, and a humorist :' but, after the history of the man with the short face, our readers will not think of discovering him by this description. His miscellany is constituted precisely on the plan of former periodical papers; and he endeavours to unite the manner of the Spectator and the Adventurer, exhibiting all that variety of prose and poetry, of essays grave and humorous, critical, instructive, and entertaining, which we are accustomed to find in publications of this nature. He is also such a sly Democritus, that even his friends the Monthly Reviewers may be deceived by both his praises and bis censures.

Our first quotation will exhibit the author in the office of a brother critic :

The abstract science of universal grammar is, perhaps, one of the most abstruse studies that can be pointed out. To reduce the principles of all languages to a few leading rules, to point out wherein vernacular idioms differ, and wherein they agree, to discriminate between the nice shades of almost synonymous expressions, to lead the way to nervous precision, judicious arrangement, and all the various beauties of composition, demand a mind at once comprehensive and intelligent, an attention unwearied and acute, and a judgment well regulated and refined. Yet, when we observe the variety of opinions in the world on points which seem calculated to draw all thinking minds to one centre, we cannot help imagining such diver

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sity

sity to arise from a want of precision in terms, and to fancy that perfect universal grammarian would be the best peace-maker in all the regions of philosophy! Far then be it from the candid and liberal mind to despise the researches of the grammarian or the etymologist; -nor let the still humbler critic, who confines himself to the simple investigation of those beauties, of which the more scientific philologists point out the causes, be thought to labour in an ungrateful soil. Every one who adds a portion, however small, to the beauty of writings, adds, at least, an equal quota to the allurements of literature; and he who developes the causes and principles of such beauty, and enables others to detect the hidden, yet attractive charms of arrangement and composition, opens to those who would, otherwise, be mere common readers, a new source of pleasure and amusement.

It has been remarked that the nearer a language approaches to perfection, the fewer perfectly synonymous terms it possesses. The refinement, which gradually improves every object, gives to every word a slight tinge of meaning, which its nearest synonyme cannot supply; and it is by attention to these delicate variations, that language has acquired the degree of refinement which at present adorns it and of all the beauties which the delicacy (some call it fastidiousness) of the present age has taught us to admire, none can, perhaps, more obviously tend to the real improvement of language than precision in terms.

It is always with something like disappointment and mortification that the thinking reader meets with ill chosen words in writers otherwise elegant and correct; and there are few mistakes of the kind which strike with greater disgust, than where a term, which derives from a philosophical root, is applied in an improper manner. The word palpable, for instance, is often misused in lieu of evident, apparent, Sc. and nothing can grate more harshly on the ear. It would be nearly as accurate to talk of hearing a smell, or smelling a sound, as to convey the idea of feeling (that is, touching) an appearance. Palpable so decidedly applies to those objects that are perceptible to the touch, that, when thus misused, it recals Mrs. Slipslop to the reader, or hearer's mind!

I mean not to remark on those colloquial barbarisms, which often disgrace the conversation of many persons who would write, at least, tolerable grammar; yet a very slight degree of attention might prevent such faults, without giving the least appearance of pedantry: but my present intention is to observe on a few of the leading features of written language, in order to enable some readers to peruse a well-composed book with greater relish, and some writers to pay attention to circumstances which at present they disregard as trivial.

There ought to be a general character of wholeness in every composition, to which all inferior parts ought to tend. Every species of writing has its peculiar and characteristic beauties, and it is necessary to avoid, as a fault, those which belong to another class. The steady didactic style of argumentative writing is disgraced, not adorned, by the brilliancy of imagination, or by the pathetic appeals to the feelings, which are of infinite advantage to some species of parrative. The page of History requires a clear and luminous style,

neither

The

neither involved in intricacy, nor tricked ont in metaphor. stronger passions may be allowed to employ figurative language, because the common tone of conversation is not sufficiently energetic to display their force ;-but the true pathos is founded on simplieity. In this manner each style of writing has its own appropriate beauties, which cease to be such when forced into the service of other branches and many thoughts and expressions, in themselves admirable, lose all their merit, and even become faults, when placed where they have no right to be found.

There are, however, beauties which belong equally to every style of writing, among which perspicuity holds a distinguished place. That book can never be well written which requires each page to be read over a second time with additional care, and which yet leaves no impression on the mind even after a third reading.There may, indeed, be periods when the mind is less disposed to receive the aliment offered to it ;-but then, though it refuses, it refuses with caution and without disgust, which is not the case when the involutions of language cause the repetition. Perspicuity relates both to arrangement and style, and in both conduces to imprint the subject on the mind, and to annex to it clearer and more luminous ideas. Perspicuity of arrangement can rarely be obtained by a rapid writer, since if often requires the situation of whole paragraphs to be changed;—but then, when it has been sufficiently attended to, every part of the work reflects lustre on the rest-the chain of reasoning is clearly perceived, the scope of the subject readily retained, and the particular arguments impressively remembered. All these advantages are assisted and embellished when perspicuity extends also to style, which demands a strict attention to grammatical construc tion, and the specific meaning of words. To attain this distinguished perspicuity, it is not only necessary that the common rules of grammar should not be violated, nor the principles of syntax disregarded; but that all the niceties of construction should be punctiliously attended to, as they conduce even more to perspicuity than they do to elegance.'

Mr. Saunter's powers in the province of grave humour may be appreciated from the following passages, in a letter written in the character of Vanity :

If the real and unsophisticated records of human actions could be searched without prejudice, should not I be found to have been the primum mobile of all illustrious deeds? Have not I prompted the hero to battle, the conqueror to mercy, the lawgiver to deep research, the philosopher to study, the anchoret to solitude, and the Bramin to self-torture? What is there that has been dignified by the names of virtue, heroism, patriotism, fortitude, modesty, humility, and a thousand other titles equally illustrious, in which I cannot, with justice, claim a distinguished share? And yet have I been stigmatized as the greatest enemy to mankind: I have been branded with the most disgraceful epithets; I have been declared incompatible with the aforesaid qualities, (which, in the common acceptation of language, are esteemed good ones); I have been contemned by the

hero,

hero, argued into nonentity by the philosopher, disclaimed by the legislator, and scouted by the conqueror. Yet have I felt conscious of my own dignity, and with a degree of magnanimity not to be equalled by any other character in the known world, I have inspired many eloquent philippics against myself."-

Many moralists, after profound research, having discovered that my power was not wholly annihilated either by the lucubrations of philosophy, or by the prevalence of the phantoms I have described — (indeed it would have been hard if visions, whom I myself alone had animated, had really usurped my power and dominion-but this circumstance the moralists were not acquainted with!)-were yet wil ling to confine my influence to the assemblies of the gay, the sphere of fashion, the tea-table of the polite, and the toilet of the fair! But indeed, these gentlemen are woefully mistaken! The being who now addresses you, reigns alike in the cabinet of the Statesman, the study of the learned, the tent of the warrior, and at the bar of jus tice. Authors and ladies have, in all ages, been deemed subject to my sway; but authors and ladies are no more my peculiar property, than divines, lawyers, politicians, and Jacobins."

We have no room for farther extracts from the serious compositions, though we should be inclined to transcribe a part of the paper on Time; and also to give the author's ideas of Modern Education. Neither can we produce any specimens of either his Tales or his Poetry: but, as it may be inquired whether Mr. Saunter possesses any playfulness of imagination, and as his reputation may greatly depend on the answer to this question, we shall quote the conclusion of the last paper, which may prove satisfactory testimony on this point. The writer thus describes what happened to himself on finishing his last number:

When 1 had written the last sentence, I leaned back in my chair, and whilst my bosom heaved with sighs, sleep stole insensibly upon me, and I suddenly found myself transported into realms of fairy splendour. I was standing in the midst of an extensive lawn, surYounded with groves of every flowering shrub, and bordered with hedges of laurel. Silver rivulets purled through beds of flowers of the brightest colours, and shady arbours were hung with festoons of jasmine and honeysuckle: nothing could be more romantic, more inviting than the scene, and as I gazed around, I perceived that the lawn was terminated by a building, of which the lower part was of the Corinthian order, and the upper story was ornamented with the light spires and fanciful fretwork of Gothic architecture. As I stood lost in wonder, a being of sylphlike form, clad in a mantle of silver tissue, with two purple wings fluttering from each shoulder, touched me with a branch of laurel, and inquired whether I wished for an explanation of the scene before me. Gladly I accepted the offer of this airy being, who informed me that I was in the paradise of authors, and that in the edifice which fronted me, I should find great deal of good company, who would receive me with gladness;

"for,"

"for," added he, "in this happy region the pride, malevolence, and envy of which that irritable tribe on earth have been so pointedly accused, have no place: each, content with his own fame, willingly hears the praises of another, and even adds his own tribute."

Fired with this description, 1 besought my youthful guide to introduce me to this delightful company; and no sooner were the folding-doors thrown open for my reception, than I distinguished a group of friends, who instantly caught my attention. I made up to them, and addressing one of them who had a very peculiar physiognomy, ventured to salute him by the name of the Spectator, presumHe received me with open ing on the singular shortness of his face. arms, and immediately introduced me to Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., who was walking arm in arm with the venerable Nestor Ironside. This admirable trio welcomed me with that grace and urbanity which ought always to distinguish the manners of superior personages; and pointing to a round table at a distance, where a very gay party were playing at Pope Joan for almonds and raisins, informed me they had only risen from the card table to receive me, and that with my permission they would introduce me to the circle. Two members, with the greatest courtesy, made room for me to be seated between them, whom I soon discovered to be the witty Adam Fitz-Adam, and the facetious Gregory Griffin. Just beyond the last-mentioned personage sat the jocular Mr. Town; nor did the graver Rambler, the elegant Adventurer, the perspicuous Mirror, nor the easy Lounger, refuse to join in our harmless pastime, though not with all the facile sportive. ness with which the august elder trio partook of the mirth of the table.

To be received in so friendly a manner by such illustrious personages gave my bosom a glow of delight; and so great was their politeness, that, after a deal or two, the interest of the game visibly gave way to their desire of conversing with me. They condsecended to say that it was yet too soon for me to think of taking up my abode in that region, and pointed out numberless subjects which had escaped my pen, embellishing their discourse with many well-turned compliments, which I repaid as gracefully as I was able, by ac knowledging my infinite obligations to many of them, and hoping in future to profit still more by the acquaintance of some whose friendship I had less assiduously cultivated, particularly the ingenious Adam Fitz-Adam, Esq. Nor would this implied promise to resume my have satisfied these zealous friends, had not the inharmonious pen screech of the watchman, "past twelve o'clock," in one moment tumbled the airy edifice from its foundations, and condensed the spirits of my late companions into their calf-skin bindings. On awaking, I reflected that, among other remarks, those illustrious persons had observed that I had not been at all given to dreaming, and I therefore determined to set down the particulars of the aforesaid vision, in order to atone for such a defect.

Whether I ever shall fulfil my implied promise to my ideal companions, will greatly depend on the reception these papers meet with, how in their collected form. The very confined circle to which they have hitherto been known, has afforded no chance of fame. If