aspire to be all three at once-there is an advantage in considering a history under these three aspects separately. We observe first by what arts the historian makes his narrative simple and perspicuous-whether he follows the order of events, where and with what justification he departs from that order, what provision he makes for keeping distinct in our minds the several concurring streams of events in complicated transactions, what skill he shows in the construction of summaries, and other minor points. His skill in explaining events by general principles, and in deducing general lessons, forms a separate consideration. And still another consideration is his scenical and dramatic skill; his word-painting, plot-arrangement, and other points of artistic treatment. Apart from the objects of critical remark thus grouped together may be placed, as a thing for special consideration, the particular form of historical chapter or book that undertakes to delineate the whole social state of a people at some one epoch. The most celebrated example of this is the third chapter of Macaulay's History. For the statement of simple generalities, presenting no difficulty to the apprehension of the reader, little direction can be given. The rules of exposition apply only to the more abstruse generalities. The four leading arts of statement and illustration are iteration, obverse iteration, exemplification, and comparison. The popular expositor must also study the arts of imparting interest to dry subjects, and must learn to appreciate the difficulties of the tyro, and to take every advantage of the previous knowledge of his readers. The arts of PERSUASION, rhetoric proper, open up a still wider field. We have said that all the arts of style are of service to the orator. There are times, perhaps, when the speaker may choose to set the precepts of clear expression on one side. Instead of trying to express himself clearly, he may seek to mislead and cheat his audience with studied ambiguity; but he will do this all the better if he is able, upon occasion, to express himself clearly and attractively. The principal things to attend to in criticising oratory are the orator's knowledge and power of adapting himself to the persons addressed, his verbal ingenuity as shown in happy turns of expression, his argumentative power, and his skill in playing upon special erдotions. In the examination of the leading authors, we follow the order of this introductory sketch. We do not take up, in the case of every author, every point here mentioned; we remark only upon the prominent features in each individual case; but we take up the various points in the order of our preliminary analysis. CHAPTER L THOMAS DE QUINCEY, 1785-1859. AMONG the most eminent prose writers of this century is Thomas de Quincey, best known as The English Opium-Eater. The family of De Quincey, as we learn from this its most famous modern representative, was originally Norwegian, played a distinguished part in the Norman Conquest, and flourished through nine or ten generations as one of the houses of nobility, until its head, the Earl of Winchester, was attainted for treason. For more than a century before the birth of the "Opium-Eater," none of his name had borne a title of high rank. His father was an opulent merchant in Manchester, who died young, leaving his widow a fortune of £1600 a-year. We know the particulars of the earlier part of De Quincey's life from his Confessions of an Opium-Eater,' and his 'Autobiographic Sketches.' The fifth son of a family of eight, he was born on the 15th of August 1785, at Greenhay, then an isolated house about a mile from Manchester. He has recorded his earliest recollections; and he was so precocious, that these date from the middle of his second year. His autobiography contains few incidents that depart strikingly from the ordinary course of the world. In his own record, things that are insignificant as objects of general interest assume the proportions that all human beings must assign to the events of their own life. His first great affliction was the death of a favourite sister when he was about six years old. Were we to measure him by the standard of ordinary children, we should refuse to believe what he tells us of the profound gloom thrown over him by this bereavement "the night that for him gathered upon that event ran after his steps far into life." "Well it was for me at this period," he says, "if well it were for me to live at all, that from any continued contemplation of my misery I was forced to wean myself, and suddenly to assume the harness of life." From these "sickly reveries" he was suddenly withdrawn, and "introduced to the world of strife." A "horrid pugilistic brother," five or six years older than himself, whose "genius for mischief amounted to inspiration," returned home from a public school. The character of this brother is drawn in the Sketches with exquisite humour and fondness. He was a boy of amazing spirits and volubility. He maintained a constant war with the boys of a neighbouring factory, and compelled little Thomas to bear a part. He kept the nursery in a whirl of excitement and wonder with war bulletins, ghost stories, tragic theatricals, and burlesque lectures "on all subjects known to man, from the Thirty-nine Articles of our English Church down to pyrotechnics, legerdemain, magic— both black and white-thaumaturgy, and necromancy." After two years of this excitement, William left Greenhay, and Thomas, then in his eighth year, relapsed into his quiet life, and steadily pursued his studies under one of his guardians, finding in that guardian's family other objects for his precocious sympathy and meditation. When he was eleven years old his mother removed to Bath, and placed him at the grammar school there. He had made such progress under his guardian's tutorship that at Bath his Latin verses were paraded by the head-master as an incitement to the older boys. This distinction led to his removal from the school. His austere mother was so shocked at the compliments he was receiving, that, after two years, she sent him to a private school in Wiltshire, "of which," he says, "the chief recommendation lay in the religious character of the master." At Winkfield he remained but a year. Then came a pleasant interlude in his school life. He spent the summer travelling in Ireland with Lord Westport, a young friend of his own age, and on his return stayed for three months at Laxton, the seat of Lord Carbery, where he studied Greek and talked theology with the beautiful Lady Carbery. But his pleasures were again interrupted by the higher powers. His guardians decided that he should go for three years to Manchester grammarschool before proceeding to Oxford. Some boys would have hailed the change with pleasure, but young De Quincey, though then but fifteen and a few months more, was premature in the expansion of his mind, and had begun to think boyish society intolerable. went to Manchester in 1800, but he could not bring himself to be content with his situation. In the course of two years his health gave way, and no longer able to endure the restraint, he took his departure one day without warning. His wanderings did not last long. He He walked straight to Chester; and, while hanging about |