Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On Composition
ON COMPOSITION.
ONE of the most important branches of a regular education, is the art of writing accurately the thoughts that arise in our minds. This exercise can scarcely be commenced loo early, or practised too much, for it continually excites new ideas, and aids the mind in the progress of knowledge. Its first requisite is to acquire a habit of reflection; its next, to array those reflections in a suitable garb. "Without the first, the most ornamented style is weak and deficient; without the last, the most just and noble sentiments often lose their effect. Our native tongue, though inferior to the ancient languages in sublimity, and to some of the modern ones in harmony, admits of many degrees of refinement, elegance, and variety. That it well expresses force and energy we see in the writings of Johnson, Young, and Milton; that it can move with ease, gracefulness, and beauty, Addison, Beattie, and Blair have taught us; while the innumerable works in the historic, poetical, and descriptive departments prove that it is endowed with native strength, and highly susceptible of ornament. Even in our own country, we have many writers, who understand and exemplify the peculiar refinements of their native language. The pages of Washington and Hamilton; of Ames, Franklin[1], and Ramsay, often exhibit those undefinable touches of simplicity and eloquence which are never attainable by ordinary writers.
We have often felt, my young friends, the fascination of sentiments clothed with elegance and sublimity; and though we do not ourselves aspire to those high departments of literature, still the art of writing our thoughts, with accuracy and facility, is an object worthy of our strict attention. To assist in this attempt rhetoricians have classified the various figures of speech, and given rules for metaphor, allegory, and personification, hyperbole, comparison, and apostrophy. But these technical terms, and amplifications, may be thus simplified for us females. To think with clearness and accuracy, and to express those thoughts concisely, and with that degree of ornament which flows from simplicity, and purity of taste. I would particularly recommend to you the epistolary style, because it is of easy attainment, and enters into all the uses of common life. It may be either sportive or sentimental; descriptive or pathetic; argumentative or consolatory; it may select its materials either from the stores of memory, fancy, or imagination; for it admits of the most incalculable variety, and its best ornaments are ease and simplicity. Most of you have felt how it alleviates the pain of separation, and animates the best feelings of sympathy and of friendship. The image of an absent acquaintance excites such a multitude of ideas and sentiments, that the judgment scarcely knows which to select, or the pen which to express, and the mind realizes such pleasure in the employment that it returns reluctantly even to the delights of society. We often gather from the page of a writer, a more correct transcript of his mental powers, than his conversation would have afforded us. Men of the most profound erudition have frequently dazzled so little in mixed company, that from their writings alone could be estimated the solidity of their talents, and the compass of their knowledge. There is often attendant on true genius, a delicacy which so fears to wound the feelings of another, a diffidence which so distrusts its own powers, that the possessor is kept silent when he might have spoken with propriety, or blushes without cause for what he has uttered. To such a mind the harsh and censorious tempers which are found in society are a terror, and it is in solitude alone that the ideas are freed from their bondage, and the expressions from their constraint, and the pen which aids the progress of this secluded delight is resigned reluctantly, as a friend, that has imparted the highest degree of intellectual enjoyment.
Among those who have preferred writing, to uttering their thoughts, we find the example of Virgil, who spoke seldom, and with hesitation, and was so unassuming in his manners that when the people thronged to see him as he passed, he would escape into obscure streets to avoid their gaze. Cowper, except before intimate friends, was almost uniformly silent, and Goldsmith, whose writings display beauty of sentiment and elevation of language, was in discourse trifling and frivolous. That accute and penetrating meta-physician, the elder President Edwards, never strove to display his talents in conversation, but says "as far as I can judge of my own abilities, I think I can write better than I can speak." The accomplished Elizabeth Smith, who in the compass of a short life acquired the knowledge of ten different languages, was so far from that loquacity which often marks superficial attainments, that it was difficult to draw her into conversation.
It is in the writings of these illustrious characters that we find originality of thought, justice of sentiment, and force of reasoning, occasionally elevating our conceptions, convincing our judgments, and softening our feelings. Many more examples might be adduced of those who prefer the exercise of composition to that of conversation, and who, in silently meditating upon some rational subject, and in recording the spontaneous flow of ideas and reflections, have felt a silent satisfaction, and an enlargement of mind, never found among the restraints, or the gaieties of society. I hope, my dear girls, that each of you will realize the pleasures of that exercise, which you now view as a burden, for if it was not of real utility, I would never recommend it to you. Often accustom yourselves to select some subject worthy of your meditations, and write your thoughts as they rise, striving by degrees to give them form and consistence, regularity and beauty. It is the privilege of our nature to think and to reason. To her who cherishes good thoughts, it can never be a burden to express them on paper, while she is confident that they will meet with no ungenerous, criticism. But as you strive to inure yourselves to this important exercise, be careful that what you produce is strictly your own; for though a similarity of sentiment or expression may accidentally occur between those who consider the same subject in the same point of view, yet to pass the sentences of another as your own, is a practice to which no good and generous mind can descend. You would shudder at the thought of defrauding another of his property; is it not equally unjust to defraud him of his literary labours? You despise the dishonesty of him who passes counterfeit coin; would you not despise also the dishonesty of him who should impress his own name upon the writings of another? This artifice is easily detected, and like every other recoils upon him who practises it, by depriving him of all the real improvement he might derive from the exercise, and exposing him to the contempt of every judicious mind.
But you, I hope, will ever prefer your own thoughts, however rude and unpolished, to the borrowed sentiments of another, from which the eye of penetration would turn away disgusted, and the voice of conscience secretly condemn the deception. Think often upon rational subjects, and it will soon be easy and pleasant to express those thoughts. Pursue with perseverance the appointed path to knowledge and to virtue, the future good will overbalance the present exertion; and suffer me once more to repeat my most earnest wish, that each of you may now acquire what will render you respectable, useful, and beloved throughout the untried scenes of your opening journey; and that each of you from the cares, toils and variable pleasures of mortality, may enter where error, and pain, and inconsistency are forever excluded.