they can to cast a cloud over them, that the bright shining of their virtues may not obscure them.'

This is altogether careless writing. It renders style often obscure, always embarrassed and inelegant. When we find these personal pronouns crowding too fast upon us, we have often no method left, but to throw the whole sentence into some other form, which may avoid those frequent references to persons who have before been mentioned.

2. All languages are liable to ambiguities. Quinctilian gives us some instances in the Latin arising from faulty arrangements. A man, he tells us, ordered, by his will, to have erected for him, after his death, "Statuam auream hastam tenentem:" upon which arose a dispute at law, whether the whole statue, or the spear only, was to be of gold?

3. The same author observes, very properly, that a sentence is always faulty, when the collocation of the words is ambiguous, though the sense can be gathered. If any one should say, "Chremetem audivi percussisse Demeam;" this is ambiguous, both in sense and structure, whether Chremes or Demea gave the blow.

Corol. Hence, to have the relation of every word and member of a sentence marked in the most proper and distinct manner, gives not clearness only, but grace and beauty to a sentence, making the mind pass smoothly and agreeably along all the parts of it. (Corol. Art. 149.)

154. UNITY is the second quality of a well-arranged sen

This is a capital property. In every composition, of whatever kind, some degree of unity is required, in order to render it beautiful. There must be always some connecting principle among the parts. Some one object must reign and be predominant.

Obs. This holds in history, in epic and dramatic poetry, and in all orations. But most of all, in a single sentence, is required the strictest unity. For the very nature of a sentence implies one preposition to be expressed. It may consist of parts, indeed; but these parts must be so closely bound together, as to make upon the mind the impression of one object, not of many. Now, in order to preserve this unity of a sentence, the following rules must be observed.

155. In the first place, during the course of the sentence, the scene should be changed as little as possible. We 'should not be hurried by sudden transitions from person to person, nor from subject to subject. There is commonly, in every sentence, some person or thing, that is the governing word. This should be continued so, if possible, from the beginning to the end of the sentence.

Illus. Should I express myself thus: " After we came to anchor, they put me on shore, where I was welcomed by all my friends, who received me with the greatest kindness." Though the objects contained in this sentence, have a sufficient connection with each other,

* Tillotson, Vol. I. Serm. 42.

yet, by this manner of representing them, by shifting so often both the place and the person, we, and they, and I, and who, they appear in such a disunited view, that the sense of the sentence is almost lost. The sentence is restored to its proper unity, by turning it after the following manner: “ Having come to an anchor, I was put on shore, where I was welcomed by all my friends, and received with the greatest kindness." Writers who transgress this rule, for the most part transgress, at the same time,

156. A second rule; never crowd into one sentence, things which have so little connection, that they could bear to be divided into two or three sentences. The violation of this rule never fails to injure the style, and displease the reader. Its effect, indeed, is so disagreeable, that of the two, it is the safer extreme, to err rather by too many short sentences, than by one that is overloaded and embarrassed. Illus. 1. Examples abound in our own authors. We shall produce some, to justify what we have said. Archbishop Tillotson," says an Author of the History of England, "died in this year. He was exceedingly beloved both by King William and Queen Mary, who nominated Dr. Tennison, Bishop of Lincoln, to succeed him." Who would expect the latter part of this sentence to follow, in consequence of the former? "He was exceedingly beloved by both King and Queen," is the proposition of the sentence: we look for some proof of this, or at least something related to it, to follow; when we are on a sudden carried off to a new proposition," who nominated Dr. Tennison to succeed him."

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2. The following is from Middleton's Life of Cicero: "In this uneasy state, both of his public and private life, Cicero was oppressed by a new and cruel affliction, the death of his beloved daughter Tullia; which happened soon after her divorce from Dolabella, whose manners and humours were entirely disagreeable to her." The prin cipal object in this sentence is, the death of Tullia, which was the cause of her father's affliction; the date of it, as happening soon after her divorce from Dolabella, may enter into the sentence with propriety; but the subjunction of Dolabella's character is foreign to the main object, and totally breaks the unity and compactness of the sentence, by setting a new picture before the reader. (Art. 149.)

3. The following sentence, from a translation of Plutarch, is still Wore speaking of the Greeks under Alexander, the author says, "The march was through an uncultivated country, whose savage inhabitants fared hardly, having no other riches than a breed of lean sheep, whose flesh was rank and unsavory, by reason of their continual feeding upon sea-fish." Here the scene is changed upon us again and again. The march of the Greeks, the description of the inhabitants through whose country they travelled, the account of these people's rickes lying wholly in sheep, and the cause of their sheep being illtasted food, form a jumble of objects, slightly related to each other, which the reader cannot, without much difficulty, comprehend under one view. (Cor. Art. 149.)

157. A third rule, for preserving the unity of sentences, is, to avoid all parentheses in the middle of them. On some

occasions, they may have a spirited appearance; as promp ted by a certain vivacity of thought, which can glance happily aside, as it is going along. (Art. 187.)

Obs. For the most part, their effect is not always spirited: nay, sometimes it is extremely bad. They seem, a sort of wheels within wheels; sentences in the midst of sentences; the perplexed method of disposing of some thought, which a writer wants art to introduce in its proper place. It were needless to give any instances, as they occur so often among incorrect writers.

153. The fourth and last rule for the unity of a sentence, is, to bring it always to a full and perfect close. Every thing that is one, should have a beginning, a middle and an end. An unfinished sentence is no sentence at all, accor ding to any grammatical rule.

Obs. But we very often meet with sentences, that are, so to speak, more than finished. When we have arrived at what we expected was to be the conclusion, when we are come to the word on which the mind, by what went before, is naturally led to rest unexpectedly, some circumstance appears, which ought to have been omitted, or to have been disposed of elsewhere; but which is left lagging behind, like a tail adjected to the sentence. This looks to the rhetorician's eye, as does to the naturalist's the prodigious tail which the rude hand of early astronomy has given to the constellation Ursa Major.

159. The third quality of a correct sentence, is STRENGTH. By this is meant such a disposition of the sev eral words and members, as shall bring out the sense to the best advantage; as shall render the impression which the period is designed to make, most full and complete; and give every word, and every member, its due weight and force. (Example. Art. 173.)

Obs. The two former qualities of perspicuity and unity, are, no doubt, absolutely necessary to the production of this effect; but more is still requisite. For a sentence may be clear enough, it may also be compact enough in all its parts, or have the requisite unity; and yet, by some unfavourable circumstance in the structure, it may fail in that strength or liveliness of impression which a more happy arrange ment would have produced.

160. The first rule for promoting the strength of a sentence, is, to divest it of all redundant words. These may, sometimes, be consistent with a considerable degree both of clearness and unity; but they are always enfeebling. (See Art. 121.)

Illus. It is a general maxim, that any words which do not add some importance to the meaning of a sentence, always spoil it. They cannot be superfluous without being hurtful. All that can be easily supplied in the mind, is better left out in the expression. Thus: "Content with deserving a triumph, he refused the honor of it," is better lan

guage than to say, "Being content with deserving a triumph, he refused the honor of it."

Corol. One of the most useful exercises of correction, upon reviewing what we have written or composed, is therefore to contract that round-about method of expression, and to lop off those useless excrescences which are commonly found in a first draught. Here severe eye should be employed; and we shall always find our sentences aquire more vigour and energy when thus retrenched; provided always, that we run not into the extreme of pruning so very close, as to give a hardness and dryness to style. For here, as in all other things, there is a due medium. Some regard, though not the principal, must be had to fulness and swelling of sound. Some leaves must be left to surround and shelter the fruit.

161. As sentences should be cleared of redundant words, so also of redundant members. As every word ought to present a new idea, so every member ought to contain a new thought. Opposed to this, stands the fault with which we sometimes meet, of the last member of a period being nothing else than the echo of the former, or the repetition of it in a different form. For example; speaking of beauty, Illus. Mr. Addi on says, "The very first discovery of it, strikes the mind with inward joy, and spreads delight through all its faculties."* And elsewhere, "It is impossible for us to behold the divine works with coldness or indifference, or to survey so many beauties, without a secret satisfaction and complacency." In both these instances, little or nothing is added by the second member of the sentence to what was already expressed in the first: and though the free and flowing manner of such an author as Mr. Addison, and the graceful harmony of his periods, may palliate such negligences; yet, in general, it holds, that style, freed from this prolixity, appears both more strong and more beautiful. The attention become remiss, the mind falls into inaction, when words are multiplied without a corresponding multiplication of ideas. (See Crit. 1. and 2. p. 71.)

162. After removing superfluities, the second rule for promoting the strength of a sentence, is, to attend particularly to the use of copulatives, relatives, and all the particles employed for transition and connection.

Llus. These little words, but, and, which, whose, where, &c. are fre quently the most important words of any; they are the joints or hinges upon which all sentences turn, and, of course, much, both of the gracefulness and the strength of sentences, must depend upon the proper use of such particles. The varieties in using them are, indeed, so numerous, that no particular system of rules can be given respecting thein. Attention to the practice of the most accurate wiiters, joined with frequent trials of the different effects produced by a dif ferent usage of those particles, must here direct us. (Art. 145. Illus. 1-11.)

163. What is called splitting of particles, or separating

a preposition from the noun which it governs, is always to be avoided. (Illus. 11. Art. 145.)

Illus. "Though virtue borrows no assistance from, yet it may often be accompanied by, the advantages of fortune." In pronouncing this sentence, we feel a sort of pain from the revulsion, or violent separa tion of two things, which, by their nature, should be closely united. We are put to a stand in thought; being obliged to rest for a little on the preposition by itself, which, at the same time, carries no significancy, till it is joined to its proper substantive noun.

164. Some writers needlessly multiply demonstrative and relative particles, by the frequent use of such phraseology as the following:

Illus. "There is nothing which disgusts us sooner than the empty pomp of language." In introducing a subject, or laying down a proposition to which we demand particular attention, this sort of style is very proper; but in the ordinary current of discourse, it is better to express ourselves more simply and shortly: "Nothing disgusts us sooner than the empty pomp of language."

165. Other writers make a practice of omitting the relative, by adopting a phraseology of a different kind from the former. This error springs from the absurd supposition that, without this omission, the meaning could not be understood.

Illus. "The man I love."-" The dominions we possessed, and the conquests we made." But though this elliptical style be intelligible, and allowable in conversation and epistolary writing, yet in all writings of a serious or dignified kind, it is ungraceful. There, the relative should always be inserted in its proper place, and the construction filled up: as, "The man whom I love.”—“The dominions which we possessed, and the conquests which we made."

166. With regard to the copulative particle and, which occurs so frequently in all kinds of composition, several observations are to be made. First, it is evident, that the unnecessary repetition of this particle enfeebles style. It has much the same effect as the frequent use of the vulgar phrase, and so, when one is telling a story in common con

versation.

Illus. 1. We shall, for one instance, take a sentence from Sir William Temple. He is speaking of the refinement of the French language: "The academy set up by Cardinal Richelieu, to amuse the wits of that age and country, and to divert them from raking into his politics and ministry, brought this into vogue; and the French wits have, for this last age, been wholly turned to the refinement of their style and language; and, indeed, with such success, that it can hardly be equalled, and runs equally through their verse and their prose.' Here are no fewer than eight ands in one sentence. This agreeable writer too often makes his sentences drag in this manner, by a careless multiplication of copulatives.