leagues." Better thus: "The sultan being dangerously wounded, was carried to his tent; and, on hearing of the defeat of his troops, was put into a litter, and transported to a place of safety, about fifteen leagues distant."

A second rule under the head of unity, is, Never to crowd into one sentence, things which have so little connexion, that they could bear to be divided into two or three sentences.

The violation of this rule tends so much to perplex and obscure, that it is safer to err by too many short sentences, than by one that is overloaded and embarrassed. Examples abound in authors. "Archbishop Tillotson," says an author, "died in this year. He was exceedingly beloved 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.

The following sentence is still worse. The author, speaking of the Greeks under Alexander, says: "Their 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 unsavoury, 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 their sheep, and the cause of their sheep being ill-tasted food, form a jumble of objects, slightly related to each other, which the reader cannot, without much difficulty, comprehend under one view.

These examples have been taken from sentences of no great length, yet very crowded. Writers who deal in long sentences, are very apt to be faulty in this article. Take, for an instance, the following from Temple. "The usual acceptation takes profit and pleasure for two different

things, and not only calls the followers or votaries of them by the several names of busy and idle men; but distinguishes the faculties of the mind, that are conversant about them, calling the operations of the first Wisdom; and of the other, Wit; which is a Saxon word, used to express what the Spaniards and Italians call Ingenio, and the French Esprit, both from the Latin, though I think wit more particularly signifies that of poetry, as may occur in remarks on the Runic language." When the reader arrives at the end of this perplexed sentence, he is surprised to find himself at so great distance from the object with which he set out.

Long, involved, and intricate sentences, are great blemishes in composition. In writers of considerable correctness, we find a period sometimes running out so far, and comprehending so many particulars, as to be more properly a discourse than a sentence. An author, speaking of the progress of our language after the time of Cromwell, runs on in this manner : "To this succeeded that licentiousness which entered with the restoration, and, from infecting our religion and morals, fell to corrupt our language; which last was not like to be much improved by those who at that time made up the court of king Charles the Second; either such as had followed him in his banishment, or who had been altogether conversant in the dialect of these times, or young men who had been educated in the same country: so that the court, which used to be the standard of correctness and propriety of speech, was then, and I think has ever since continued, the worst school in England for that accomplishment; and so will remain, till better care be taken in the education of our nobility, that they may set out into the world with some foundation of literature, in order to qualify them for patterns of politeness."

The author, in place of a sentence, has here given a loose dissertation upon several subjects. How many different facts, reasonings, and observations, are here presented to the mind at once! and yet so linked together by the author, that they all make parts of a sentence, which admits

of no greater division in pointing, than a colon between any of its members.

It may be of use here to give a specimen of a long sentence, broken down into several periods; by which we shall more clearly perceive the disadvantages of long sentences, and how easily they may be amended. Here follows the sentence in its original form: "Though in yesterday's paper we showed how every thing that is great, new, or beautiful, is apt to affect the imagination with pleasure, we must own, that it is impossible for us to assign the necessary cause of this pleasure, because we know neither the nature of an idea, nor the substance of a human soul: and therefore, for want of such a light, all that we can do, in speculations of this kind, is, to reflect on those operations of the soul that are most agreeable; and to range, under their proper heads, what is pleasing or displeasing to the mind, without being able to trace out the several necessary and efficient causes, from whence the pleasure or displeasure arises."

The following amendment, besides breaking down the period into several sentences, exhibits some other useful alterations: "In yesterday's paper, we showed that every thing which is great, new, or beautiful, is apt to affect the imagination with pleasure. We must own, that it is impossible for us to assign the efficient cause of this pleasure, because we know not the nature either of an idea, or of the human soul. All that we can do, therefore, in speculations of this kind, is to reflect on the operations of the soul which are most agreeable, and to range under proper heads what is pleasing or displeasing to the mind.”

A third rule for preserving the unity of sentences, is, to keep clear of all unnecessary parentheses.

On some occasions, when the sense is not too long suspeded by them, and when they are introduced in a proper place, they may add both to the vivacity and to the energy of the sentence. But for the most part their effect is extremely bad. They are wheels within wheels, sentences in the midst of sentences; the perplexed method of

disposing of some thought, which a writer wants judgment. to introduce in its proper place.

The parenthesis in this sentence is striking and proper ; "And was the ransome paid? It was; and paid “(What can exalt the bounty more?) for thee.” But in the following sentence, we become sensible of an impropriety in the use of it. "If your hearts secretly reproach you for the wrong choice you have made, (as there is time for repentance and retreat; and a return to wisdom is always honourable,) bethink yourselves that the evil is not irreparable." It would be much better to express in a separate sentence, the thoughts contained in this parenthesis; thus: "If your hearts secretly reproach you for the wrong choice you have made, bethink yourselves that the evil is not irreparable. Still there is time for repentance and retreat; and a return to wisdom is always honourable.”

CHAPTER III.

Of the STRENGTH of a SENTENCE.

THE THIRD requisite of a perfect sentence, is, Strength.

By this is meant such a disposition and management of the several words and members, as shall bring out the sense to the best advantage, and give every word, and every member, its due weight and force.

A sentence may be clear, it may also be compact in all its parts, or have the requisite unity, and yet by some circumstance in the structure, it may fail in that strength of impression, which a better management would have produced.

The first rule for promoting the strength of a sentence, is, to prune it of all redundant words and members.

It is a general maxim, that any words which do not add some importance to the meaning of a sentence, always injure it. Care should therefore be exercised with respect to synonymous words, expletives, circumlocutions, tautologies, and the expression of unnecessary circumstances. The attention becomes remiss, when words are multiplied with

out a correspondent multiplication of ideas. "Content with deserving a triumph, he refused the honour of it;" is better language than to say, "Being content with deserving it," &c.

"In the Attic commonwealth," says an author," it was the privilege and birthright of every citizen and poet, to rail aloud and in public." Better simply thus: "In the Attic commonwealth, it was the privilege of every citizen to rail in public."

Another expresses himself thus: "They returned back again to the same city from whence they came forth;" instead of, "They returned to the city whence they came." The five words, back, again, same, from, and forth, are mere expletives, that have neither use nor beauty, and are therefore to be regarded as encumbrances.

The word but is often improperly used with that: as, "There can be no doubt but that he seriously means what he says." It is not only useless, but cumbersome: "There can be no doubt that he seriously means what he says." By transposing the parts of the sentence, we shall immediately perceive the propriety of omitting this word: "That he seriously means what he says, there can be no doubt."

"I am honestly, seriously, and unalterably of opinion, that nothing can possibly be more incurably and emphatically destructive, or more decisively fatal, to a kingdom, than the introduction of thoughtless dissipation, and the pomp of lazy luxury." Would not the full import of this noisy sentence be better expressed thus: "I am of opinion, that nothing is more ruinous to a kingdom, than luxury and dissipation."

Some writers use much circumlocution in expressing their ideas. A considerable one, for so very simple a thing as a man's wounding himself, says, "To mangle, or wound, his outward form and constitution, his natural limbs or body."

But on some accasions, circumlocution has a peculiar force; as in the following sentence: "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?”