beauty of a period can seldom or never be complete, whatever their position. They are in general nothing more than a perplexed and awkward method of disposing of some thought which the writer wants art to introduce in its proper place. It is not however sufficient to omit the usual marks of a parenthesis, but the sentence must be so constructed as to render them inadmissible; for, as Dr. Whately remarks, "it is no cure to a lame man, to take away his crutches."* In poetical composition, parentheses may occasionally be admitted with happy effect; but if they are long or frequent, they will be found still more disagreeable than in prose. The pages of Churchill, who displays a strong but rude vein of poetry, are entangled with innumerable parentheses.

It seems to me, that in order to maintain the moral system of the world at a certain point far below that of ideal perfection, (for we are made capable of conceiving what we are incapable of attaining) but, however sufficient upon the whole to constitute a state easy and happy, or at the worst tolerable; I say, it seems to me, that the author of nature has thought fit to mingle from time to time, among the societies of men, a few, and but a few, of those on whom he is graciously pleased to bestow a larger proportion of the ethereal spirit than is given in the ordinary course of his providence to the sons of men.-Bolingbroke's Spirit of Patriotism.

Into this sentence, by means of a parenthesis, and other interjected circumstances, the author has contrived to thrust so many particulars, that he is obliged to have recourse to the sorry phrase, I say, the occurrence of which may be regarded as an infallible mark of a clumsy construction. Such a phrase may be excusable in conversation, but in polished writings it is altogether unpardonable.

* Whately's Elements of Rhetoric, p. 251.-Dr. Paley related the following anecdote of Bishop Law." He is very fond of parentheses in the structure of his sentences; he will set a pair of hooks at a great distance one from the other, and then have another little parenthesis in the belly of that. He had a book printed at Carlisle; they were a long time about it; he sent several times to hasten them; at last he called himself to know the reason of the delay. Why does not my book make its appearance?' said he to the printer. 'My Lord, I am extremely sorry; but we have been obliged to send to Glasgow for a pound of parentheses.' -(Best's Personal and Literary Memorials.)

F

The most astonishing instance of this respect, so frequently paid to Nothing, is when it is paid (if I may so express myself) to something less than Nothing; when the person who receives it is not only void of the qualities for which he is respected, but is in reality notoriously guilty of vices directly opposite to the virtues, whose applause he receives. This is, indeed, the highest degree of Nothing, or (if I may be allowed the word) the nothingest of all Nothings. -Fielding's Essay on Nothing.

Here the effect of the author's wit would be rendered more powerful by the omission of these qualifying parentheses. Instead of pointing the sentiment, they have a quite opposite tendency. In compositions of this kind, no apology need be offered for such expressions as Fielding has employed.

The subsequent quotations will further illustrate the disagreeable effect of parentheses.

It was an ancient tradition, that when the Capitol was founded by one of the Roman kings, the god Terminus (who presided over boundaries, and was represented according to the fashion of that age by a large stone) alone, among all the inferior deities, refused to yield his place to Jupiter himself.-Gibbon's Hist. of the Roman Empire.

The description Ovid gives of his situation, in that first period of his existence, seems (some poetical embellishments excepted) such as, were we to reason a priori, we should conclude he was placed in. -Lancaster's Essay on Delicacy.

When this parliament sate down, (for it deserves our particular observation that both houses were full of zeal for the present government, and of resentment against the late usurpations) there was but one party in parliament; and no other party could raise its head in the nation.-Bolingbroke's Dissertation on Parties.

It will, therefore, be very reasonable to allow on their account as much as, added to the losses of the conqueror, may amount to a million of deaths, and then we shall see this conqueror, the oldest we have on the records of history (though, as we have observed before, the chronology of these remote times is extremely uncertain) opening the scene by a destruction of at least one million of his species, unprovoked but by his ambition, without any motives but pride, cruelty, and madness, and without any benefit to himself (for Justin expressly tells us, he did not maintain his conquests), but solely to make so many people, or so many distant countries, feel experimentally, how severe a scourge Providence intends for the human race, when he gives one man the power over many, and arms his naturally impotent and feeble rage with the hands of millions, who know no common principle of action but a blind obedience to the passions of their ruler.-Burke's Vindication of Natural Society.

This work is professedly written in imitation of Bolingbroke's style and manner.

III. Sentences ought never to be extended beyond what seems their natural close. It need not here be observed that, according to the laws of rhetoric, a sentence unfinished is no sentence. But we frequently meet with sentences which may be said to be more than finished: when we have arrived at what we expected was to be their conclusion, some circumstance which ought to have been omitted, or to have been otherwise disposed of, suddenly presents itself. Such appendages tend very much to destroy the beauty, and to diminish the strength of a period.

And here it was often found of absolute necessity to enflame or cool the passions of the audience; especially at Rome, where Tully spoke, and with whose writings young divines (I mean those among them who read old authors) are more conversant than with those of Demosthenes, who, by many degrees, excelled the other; at least as an orator.-Swift's Letter to a young Gentleman.

This is as weak a sentence as could easily be written; but without endeavouring to point out the whole of its defects, I shall only advert to the circumstance for which it is here introduced. The natural close of the period is at the last semicolon, and when we have proceeded thus far, we expect no additional information; but the halting clause, "at least as an orator," is unexpectedly intruded upon us.

Speaking of Burnet and Fontenelle, Temple says:

The first could not end his learned treatise without a panegyric of modern learning and knowledge in comparison of the ancient; and the other falls so grossly into the censure of the old poetry, and preference of the new, that I could not read either of these strains without indignation, which no quality among men is so apt to raise in me as sufficiency, the worst composition out of the pride and ignorance of mankind.-Temple on Ancient and Modern Learning.

Of this sentence the word indignation forms the natural conclusion: what follows is foreign to the proposition with which the author began.

All the world acknowledgeth the Æneid to be most perfect in its kind; and considering the disadvantage of the language, and the severity of the Roman Muse, the poem is still more wonderful; since, without the liberty of the Grecian poets, the diction is so great and noble, so clear, so forcible and expressive, so chaste and pure, that even all the strength and compass of the Greek tongue, joined to Homer's fire, cannot give us stronger and clearer ideas, than the great Virgil has set before our eyes; some few instances excepted, in which Homer, through the force of genius, hath excelled.-Felton's Dissertation on Classics.

The circumstance so ungracefully appended to this sentence might be disposed of in the following manner :— "All the world acknowledgeth, &c., that, with the exception of some few instances in which Homer, through the force of genius, hath excelled, even all the strength and compass of the Greek tongue, joined to Homer's fire, cannot give us stronger and clearer ideas, than the great Virgil hath set before our eyes."

By way of appendix to this chapter, we may remark that it is improper to begin a sentence in such a loose manner as appears in the following examples.

As nothing damps or depresses the spirits like great subjection or slavery, either of body or mind; so nothing nourishes, revives, and fortifies them like great liberty. Which may possibly enter among other reasons, of what has been observed about long life being found more in England, than in others of our neighbouring countries.— Temple on Health and Long Life.

For this end I propose to-morrow to set out a week's task to my labourers, and accept your invitation, if Dion thinks good. To which I gave consent.-Berkeley's Minute Philosopher.

So far they oblige, and no farther; their authority being wholly founded on that permission and adoption. In which we are not singular in our notions.-Blackstone's Commentaries.

I think it convenient to endeavour, if possible, to remove a violent, and, I think, unreasonable prejudice which men have received against all those who endeavour to make religion reasonable. As if Bellarmine had been in the right, when he said that faith was rather to be defined by ignorance than by knowledge.-Tillotson's Sermons.

STRENGTH IN THE STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES.

THE strength of a sentence consists in such a disposition of its several words and members, as may tend most powerfully to impress the mind of the reader with the meaning which the author wishes to convey. To the production of this effect the qualities of perspicuity and unity are absolutely requisite; but they are not of themselves sufficient. For a sentence may be possessed of perspicuity and unity, and yet, by some unhappiness in its structure, may be destitute of that strength or vivacity of expression which a more skilful arrangement would have produced.

I. A sentence ought to be free from all redundant words. These may sometimes be consistent with perspicuity and unity, but they are always irreconcilable with strength. It is an invariable maxim, that words which add nothing to the sense, or to the clearness, must diminish the force of the expression.

Although the effect fell short of what is ascribed to fabulous legislators and founders of states, yet to none ever were ascribed more tokens of magnanimity and greatness of mind.—Ferguson's Hist. of the Roman Republic.

What is the difference between magnanimity and greatness of mind?

I look upon it as my duty, so far as God hath enabled me, and as long as I keep within the bounds of truth, of duty, and of decency.— Swift's Letters.

It would certainly be very strange if any man should think it his duty to transgress the bounds of duty.