'Though she were wise as Pallas, dare I sain Her faconde eke full womanly and plain, No contrefeted terms hadde she To semen wise; but after her degree She spake; and all her wordes more or less Sounding in virtue and in gentilesse.'
Exquisite examples of this pure, mother English are to be found in the speeches put by Shakspeare into the mouths of his female characters.
'No fountain from its rocky cave E'er tripped with foot more free;'
never were its waters clearer, more translucent, or more musical. This is indeed the peculiar beauty of a feminine style--choice and elegant words, but such as are familiar in well-bred conversation; words, not used scientifically, but according to their customary signification. It is from being guided wholly by usage, undisturbed by extraneous considerations, and from their characteristic fineness of discernment with regard to what is fit and appropriate, as well as from their being much less influenced by the vanity of fine writing, that sensible, educated women have a grace of style so rarely attainable by men. What are called the graces of composition are often its blemishes. There is no better test of beauties or defects of style than to judge them by the standard of letter writing. An expression, a phrase, a figure of speech, thought to be very splendid in itself, would often appear perfectly ridiculous if introduced in a letter. The rule of the cynic is a pretty good one, after all: _In writing, when you think you have done something particularly brilliant, strike it out._
We are pretty well persuaded that authors are but poor judges of their own productions. They pride themselves on what they did with most labor. It is not good praise of any work to say that it is 'elaborate.' An author's letters are not apt to be labored, 'to smell of the lamp;' and they are, therefore, in general, his best specimens. In letter writing there will be found a facility, a freedom from constraint, a simplicity, and a directness, which are the capital traits of a good style. Of Shakspeare it is said, in the preface to the first edition of his works: 'His mind and hand went together, and what he thought he uttered with that easiness, that we have scarce received from him a blot in his papers.' Shakspeare did not, therefore,