Sir Thomas More.—­Will the Liturgy and the Bible keep the language at that standard in the colonies, where little or no use is made of the one, and not much, it may be feared, of the other?

Montesinos.—­A sort of hybrid speech, a Lingua Anglica, more debased, perhaps, than the Lingua Franca of the Levant, or the Portuguese of Malabar, is likely enough to grow up among the South Sea Islands; like the mixture of Spanish with some of the native languages in South America, or the mingle-mangle which the negroes have made with French and English, and probably with other European tongues in the colonies of their respective states.  The spirit of mercantile adventure may produce in this part of the new world a process analogous to what took place throughout Europe on the breaking up of the Western Empire; and in the next millennium these derivatives may become so many cultivated tongues, having each its literature.  These will be like varieties in a flower-garden, which the florist raises from seed; but in the colonies, as in our orchards, the graft takes with it, and will preserve, the true characteristics of the stock.

Sir Thomas More.—­But the same causes of deterioration will be at work there also.

Montesinos.—­Not nearly in the same degree, nor to an equal extent.  Now and then a word with the American impress comes over to us which has not been struck in the mint of analogy.  But the Americans are more likely to be infected by the corruption of our written language than we are to have it debased by any importations of this kind from them.

Sir Thomas More.—­There is a more important consideration belonging to this subject.  The cause which you have noticed as the principal one of this corruption must have a farther and more mischievous effect.  For it is not in the vices of an ambitious style that these ephemeral writers, who live upon the breath of popular applause, will rest.  Great and lasting reputations, both in ancient and modern times, have been raised notwithstanding that defect, when the ambition from which it proceeded was of a worthy kind, and was sustained by great powers and adequate acquirements.  But this ambition, which looks beyond the morrow, has no place in the writers of a day.  Present effect is their end and aim; and too many of them, especially the ablest, who have wanted only moral worth to make them capable of better things, are persons who can “desire no other mercy from after ages than silence and oblivion.”  Even with the better part of the public that author will always obtain the most favourable reception, who keeps most upon a level with them in intellectuals, and puts them to the least trouble of thinking.  He who addresses himself with the whole endeavours of a powerful mind to the understanding faculty may find fit readers; but they will be few.  He who labours for posterity in the fields of research, must look to posterity for his reward.  Nay, even they whose business is with the feelings and the fancy, catch most fish when they angle in shallow waters.  Is it not so, Piscator?