This copiousness, while it affords great advantages to a judicious writer, may also be abused, and become the cause of a prolix verbose stile. Instances of this fault occur in almost every author; it is one of the greatest, as well as most frequent faults in writing, and yet has scarcely been censured by critics.[27]
There are indeed but few instances in which two or three words express precisely the same idea; but there are many instances of words conveying nearly the same sense, which are thrown together by careless writers without the least occasion. Take for example a passage of Mr. Addison's Cato:
"So the pure, limpid stream, when foul with stains
Of rushing torrents and descending rains,
Works itself clear and as it runs refines,
Till by degrees the floating mirror shines."
Pure and limpid are here too nearly synonimous to be applied to the same object. The same objection lies to the use of "foul with stains." Between working clear and refining, there is perhaps no difference in idea: And the arrangement in the second line is objectionable, for the consequence is placed before the cause; rushing torrents being the consequence of descending rains. Such an assemblage of synonimous words clogs and enfeebles the expression, and fatigues the mind of the reader. Writers of an inferior class are particularly fond of crowding together epithets. If they would describe a man they hate, he is a low, vile, mean, despicable, contemptible fellow. If they would describe a man of an amiable character, he is the most kind, humane, loving, tender, affectionate being imaginable. Epithets, so liberally bestowed, confuse our ideas and leave the mind without any distinct knowlege of the character.[E]
To a copiousness of language, on the other hand, may be ascribed the decline of action in speaking, and the want of animation. When nations have but few words to express their ideas, they have recourse to figures, to significant tones, looks and gestures, to supply the defect. Hence the figurative language of the Orientals of antiquity; hence the imagery of the Caledonian Bard;[28] the bold metaphorical language of the American natives, and the expressive tones and gesticulations that attend their speaking.
To this cause also must we ascribe the music of the Greek language, and the action which accompanied the rehearsals on the stage. What was the effect of necessity at first, became afterwards a matter of art. This was the origin of the pantomime. Modern operas are also an imitation of the ancient musical rehearsals of the theater.[29]
But as languages become rich and furnish words for communicating every idea, action must naturally cease. Men will not give themselves the pain of exerting their limbs and body to make themselves understood, when a bare opening of their lips will answer the purpose. This may be assigned as one principal cause of the decline of eloquence in modern ages, particularly among the English.
To the same cause, in part, may we ascribe the difference in the French and English manner of speaking. It is a common observation, that the French use more action and are more animated in conversation, than the English. The cause usually assigned, is, the natural vivacity of the French nation; which appears to me not satisfactory; for the Germans, who resemble the French, in some degree, in their manner of speaking, are nevertheless a more grave people than the English.
I suspect that the difference may in part be thus accounted for. The French, tho by no means a barren language, wants words to express many ideas, for which the English is provided. For example, the English has two forms for the future tense of verbs; shall and will; each of which has a distinct meaning. Shall expresses event in the first person, and promise, command or threatning in the second and third. Will, in the first person, promises; in the second and third, foretells. The French has no such distinction. The phrase je lui payerai, the only form of the future, cannot convey such distinct meanings, as promise and event, unless accompanied with some expressive tone or gesture. A Frenchman therefore, to express the force of the English, I will pay, must supply the want of a distinct word by action, or have recourse to a circumlocution. The same remark holds with respect to would and should, which, in a variety of combinations, retain distinct significations.