Latin, mingled with Celtic, to which was given the name of Romanshe: and as the Franks and Normans did not, like the Saxons in England, expel the inhabitants, but, after their victories, mingled with them, the language of the country became a compound of the Teutonic dialect imported by these conquerors, and of the former corrupted Latin. Hence, the French language has always continued to have a very considerable affinity with the Latin; and hence, a great number of words of Latin origin, which were in use among the Normans in France, were introduced into our tongue at the conquest; to which, indeed, many have since been added directly from the Latin, in consequence of the great diffusion of Roman literature throughout all Europe.

From the influx of so many streams, from the junction of so many dissimilar parts, it naturally follows, that the English, like every compounded language, must needs be somewhat irregular. We cannot expect from it that correspondence of parts, that complete analogy in structure, which may be found in those simpler languages, which have been formed in a manner within themselves, and built on one foundation. Hence, as I before shewed, it has but small remains of conjugation or declension; and its syntax is narrow, as there are few marks in the words themselves that can shew their relation to each other, or, in the grammatical style, point out either their concordance, or their

government, in the sentence. Our words having been brought to us from several different regions, straggle, if we may so speak, asunder from each other; and do not coalesce so naturally in the structure of a sentence, as the words in the Greek and Roman tongues.

But these disadvantages, if they be such, of a compound language, are balanced by other advantages that attend it; particularly, by the number and variety of words with which such a language is likely to be enriched. Few languages are, in fact, more copious than the English. In all grave subjects especially, historical, critical, political, and moral, no writer has the least reason to complain of the barrenness of our tongue. The studious reflecting genius of the people, has brought together great store of expressions, on such subjects, from every quarter. We are rich too in the language of poetry. Our poetical style differs widely from prose, not in point of numbers only, but in the very words themselves; which shews what a stock and compass of words we have it in our power to select and employ, suited to those different occasions. Herein we are infinitely superior to the French, whose poetical language, if it were not distinguished by rhyme, would not be known to differ from their ordinary prose.

It is chiefly, indeed, on grave subjects, and with respect to the stronger emotions of the mind, that

our language displays its power of expression. We are said to have thirty words, at least, for denoting all the varieties of the passion of anger.* But, in describing the more delicate sentiments and emotions, our tongue is not so fertile. It must be confessed, that the French language far surpasses ours, in expressing the nicer shades of character; especially those varieties of manner, temper, and behaviour, which are displayed in our social intercourse with one another. Let any one attempt to translate into English, only a few pages of one of Marivaux's novels, and he will soon be sensible of our deficiency of expressions on these subjects. Indeed, no language is so copious as the French for whatever is delicate, gay, and amusing. It is, perhaps, the happiest language for conversation in the known world; but, on the higher subjects of composition, the English may be justly esteemed to excel it considerably.

Language is generally understood to receive its predominant tincture from the national character of the people who speak it. We must not, indeed, expect that it will carry an exact and full impression of their genius and manners; for,

* Anger, wrath, passion, rage, fury, outrage, fierceness, sharpness, animosity, choler, resentment, heat, heartburning; to fume, storm, inflame, be incensed; to vex, kindle, irritate, enrage, exasperate, provoke, fret; to be sullen, hasty, hot, rough, sour, peevish, &c. Preface to Greenwood's Grammar.

among all nations, the original stock of words which they received from their ancestors, remain as the foundation of their speech throughout many ages, while their manners undergo, perhaps, very great alterations. National character will, however, always have some perceptible influence on the turn of language; and the gaiety and vivacity of the French, and the gravity and thoughtfulness of the English, are sufficiently impressed on their respective tongues."

From the genius of our language, and the character of those who speak it, it may be expected to have strength and energy. It is, indeed, naturally prolix; owing to the great number of particles and auxiliary verbs which we are obliged constantly to employ; and this prolixity must, in some degree, enfeeble it. We seldom can express so much by one word as was done by the verbs, and by the nouns, in the Greek and Roman languages. Our style is less compact; our conceptions being spread out among more words, and split, as it were, into more parts, make a fainter impression when we utter them. Notwithstanding this defect, by our abounding in terms for expressing all the strong emotions of the mind, and by the liberty which we enjoy, in a greater degree than most nations, of compounding words, our language may be esteemed to possess considerable force of expression; comparatively, at least, with

the other modern tongues, though much below the ancient. The style of Milton, alone, both in poetry and prose, is a sufficient proof, that the English tongue is far from being destitute of nerve and energy.

The flexibility of a language, or its power of accommodation to different styles and manners, so as to be either grave and strong, or easy and flowing, or tender and gentle, or pompous and magnificent, as occasions require, or as an author's genius prompts, is à quality of great importance in speaking and writing. It seems to depend upon three things: the copiousness of a language; the different arrangements of which its words are susceptible; and the variety and beauty of the sound of those words, so as to correspond to many different subjects. Never did any tongue possess this quality so eminently as the Greek, which every writer of genius could so mould, as to make the style perfectly expressive of his own manner and peculiar turn. It had all the three requisites, which I have mentioned as necessary for this purpose. It joined to these the graceful variety of its different dialects; and thereby readily assumed every sort of character which an author could wish, from the most simple and most familiar, up to the most majestic. The Latin, though a very beautiful language, is inferior, in this respect, to the Greek. It has more of a fixed character of stateliness and gravity. It is