hath rendered some writers intemperate in the use of it. But the excess itself is an evidence of its value. There is no risk of intemperance in using a liquor which hath neither spirit nor flavour. On the contrary, the richer the beverage is, the danger is the greater, and therefore it ought to be used with the greater caution. Quintilian hath remarked concerning the writings of Seneca, which are stuffed with antithesis, that "they abound in pleasant faults."* The example had not been dangerous if the faults had not been pleasant. But the danger here was the greater, as the sentiments conveyed under these figures were excellent. The thought recommended the expression. An admiration of the former insinuated a regard to the latter, with which it was so closely connected, and both very naturally engaged imitation. Hence Seneca is justly considered as one of the earliest corrupters of the Roman eloquence. And here we may remark by the way, that the language of any country is in no hazard of being corrupted by bad writers. The hazard is only when a writer of considerable talents hath not a perfect chastity of taste in composition, but, as was the case of Seneca, affects to excess what in itself is agreeable. Such a style, compared with the more manly elocution of Cicero, we call effeminate, as betraying a sort of feminine fondness for glitter and ornament. There is some danger that both French and English will be corrupted in the same manner. There have been some writers of eminence in both, who might be charged, perhaps as justly as Seneca, with abounding in pleasant faults.

But enough of the antithesis-I return to the consideration of periods in general. And on this head I shall only farther remark, that when they consist of complex members, we must follow the same rule in arranging the clauses of each member, in order to give all possible energy to the sentence, that we do in arranging the members of the period. By doing this, we shall never be in danger of thinking that the member is complete till it actually be so, just as by the structure of the period we are prevented from thinking the sentence finished before the end. A disappointment in the former case is of less moment, but it is still of some. In each it occasions a degree of langour which weakens the expression.

I shall give an example of a period where, in one of the members, this rule is not observed. "Having already shown how the fancy is affected by the works of Nature, and afterward considered, in general, both the works of Nature and of Art how they mutually assist and complete each other, in forming such scenes and prospects || as are most apt to delight the mind of the beholder I shall in this paper throw together some reflections on that particular art || which

* 'nstit.. lib. x., cap. i.: "Abundant dulcibus vitiis."

has a more immediate tendency than any other || to produce those pleasures of the imagination || which have hitherto been the subject of this discourse."* "This sentence is a period, agreeably to the definition formerly given. Wherever we stop, the sentence is imperfect till we reach the end. But the members are not all composed according to the rule laid down. It consisteth of three members. The first ends at Nature, is a single clause, and therefore not affected by the rule; the second is complex, consisting of several clauses, and ends at beholder; the third is also complex, and concludes the sentence. The last member cannot be faulty, else the sentences would be no period. The fault must then be in the structure of the second, which is evidently loose. That member, though not the sentence, might conclude, and a reader naturally supposes that it doth conclude, first at the word art, afterward at the word other, both which are before its real conclusion. Such a composition, therefore, even in periods, occasions, though in a less degree, the same kind of disappointment to the reader, and, consequently, the same appearance of feebleness in the style, which result from long, loose, and complex sentences. A very little alteration in the faulty member will unite the clauses more intimately, and entirely remove the exception; as thus, " And afterward considered, in general, how, in forming such scenes and prospects as are most apt to delight the mind of the beholder, the works both of Nature and of Art mutually assist and complete each other."

It may be thought, and justly too, that this care will sometimes make the expression appear elaborate. I shall only recommend it as one of the surest means of preventing this effect, to render the members as simple as possible, and particularly to avoid synonymas and redundancies, of which there are a few in the member now criticised. Such are scenes and prospects, assist and complete, mutually and each oth

er.

With the aid of this reformation, also, the whole period will appear much better compacted as follows: "Having already shown how the fancy is affected by the works of Nature; and afterward considered, in general, || how, in forming such scenes as are most apt to delight the mind of the beholder, the works both of Nature and of Art assist each other, . . . I shall in this paper throw together some reflections on that particular art | which has a more immediate tendency than any other to produce those primary pleasures of the imagination which have hitherto been the subject of this discourse."

PART III. Observations on Loose Sentences.

In complex sentences of looser composition, there is, as * Spectator, No. 415, O.

was observed, a much greater risk of falling into a languid manner. This may arise from different causes. First, even where the sentence is neither long nor complex, the members will sometimes appear disjointed. The consequence always is, that a hearer will at first be in doubt whether it be one sentence or more. Take the following for an example : "However, many who do not read themselves | are seduced by others that do, and thus become unbelievers upon trust and at second hand; and this is too frequent à case."* The harmony of the members, taken severally, contribute to the bad effect of the whole. The cadence is so perfect at the end both of the first member and of the second, that the reader is not only disappointed, but surprised, to find the sentence still unfinished. The additional clauses appear out of their proper place like something that had been forgotten.

Another cause of langour here is the excessive length of a sentence, and too many members. Indeed, wherever the sentiments of an author are not expressed in periods, the end of a member or clause, or even an intermediate word, as hath been observed already, may be the end of the sentence. Yet the commonness of such sentences, when they do not exceed an ordinary length, prevents in a great measure a too early expectation of the end. On the contrary, when they transgress all customary limits, the reader begins to grow impatient, and to look for a full stop or breathingplace at the end of every clause and member. An instance of this excess you have in the succeeding quotation: "Though in yesterday's paper we considered how everything 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 which might help us to discover the conformity or disagreeableness of the one to the other; 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 reader will observe, that in this passage I have distinguished by italics all those words in the body of the sentence, no fewer than seven, at any of which, if there were a full stop, the construction of the preceding part would be complete. The fault here is solely in the length of the whole, and in the number of the parts. The members themselves are well connected.

* Swift's Sermon on the Trinity.

† Spectator, No. 413 O.

In the next example we have both the faults above menoned in one sentence: "Last year a paper was brought here from England, called a Dialogue between the Archbishop of Canterbury and Mr. Higgins, which we ordered to be burned by the common hangman, as it well deserved, though we have no more to do with his Grace of Canterbury than you have with the Archbishop of Dublin, whom you tamely suffer to be abused openly and by name, by that paltry rascal of an observator, and lately upon an affair wherein he had no concern—I mean the business of the missionary of Drogheda, wherein our excellent primate was engaged, and did nothing but according to law and discretion."* Hardly will you find in any of the worst English writers a more exceptionable sentence in point of composition than the preceding, which is taken from one of the best. The stops which might be in it will be found, on an attentive perusal, to be no fewer than fourteen; the clauses are exceedingly unequal, abrupt, and ill-compacted. Intricacy in the structure of a complex sentence might also be here exemplified as a cause of langour. But as this error never fails to create obscurity, it hath been considered already under a former head.

PART IV. Review of what has been deduced above in regard to Arrangement.

I have now briefly examined how far arrangement may contribute to vivacity, both in simple sentences and in complex, and from what principles in our nature it is that the effect ariseth.

In this discussion I have had occasion to consider, in regard to simple sentences, the difference between what may properly be called the rhetorical and natural order, and that which I have denominated the artificial and grammatical, or the customary way of combining the words in any particular language. I have observed as to the former, and taken some pains to illustrate the observation, that it is universal; that it results from the frame of spirit in which the sentiment, whatever it be, is spoken or written; that it is, by consequence, a sort of natural expression of that frame, and tends to communicate it to the hearer or the reader. I have observed, also, that this order, which alone deserves the name of Natural, is in every language more or less cramped by the artificial or conventional laws of arrangement in the language; that in this respect, the present languages of Europe, as they allow less latitude, are considerably inferior to Greek and Latin, but that English is not a little superior in this particular to some of the most eminent of the modern tongues. I have shown, also, that the artificial arrangement is differ

* Swift's Letter concerning the Sacramental Test

ent in different languages, and seems chiefly accommodated to such simple explanation, narration, and deduction as scarcely admits the exertion either of fancy or of passion.

In regard to complex sentences, both compound and decompound, I have remarked the difference between the loose sentence and the period; I have observed the advantages and the disadvantages of each in point of vivacity, the occasions to which they are respectively suited, the rules to be observed in composing them, and the faults which, as tending to enervate the expression and tire the reader, ought carefully to be avoided. I have also made some remarks on the different kinds of antithesis, and the uses to which they may properly be applied.

Thus much shall suffice for the general illustration of this article, concerning the vivacity which results from arrange

ment.

CHAPTER IV.

OF THE CONNECTIVES EMPLOYED IN COMBINING THE PARTS OF A SENTENCE.

I AM Very sensible that the remarks contained in the preceding chapter, on the particular structure and the particular arrangement in sentences, whether simple or complex, which are most conducive to vivacity, however well these remarks are founded, and however much they may assist us in forming a judgment concerning any performance under our review, are very far from exhausting this copious subject, and still farther from being sufficient to regulate our practice in composing.

For this reason, I judged that the observations on the nature and the management of connexive particles contained in this chapter and the succeeding, might prove a useful supplement to the two preceding ones (for they are connected with both), and serve at once to enlarge our conceptions on this subject, and to assist our practice. At first, indeed, I had intended to comprehend both these chapters in the foregoing But when I reflected, on the other hand, not only that they would swell that article far beyond the ordinary bounds, but that, however much the topics are related, the nature of the investigation contained in them is both different in itself, and must be differently conducted, I thought it would have less the appearance of digression, and conduce more to perspicuity, to consider them severally under their proper and discriminating titles.