omanly 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,

'Write with fury, and correct with phlegm;'

but he wrote straightforwardly and naturally, as they do who assiduously
practise letter writing.

THE YEAR.

Come, gentle Snowdrop, come; we welcome thee: