acknowledgment compensates; to confess, supposes a higher degree of crime. A patriot avows his opposition to a bad minister, and is applauded; a gentleman acknowledges his mistake, and is forgiven; a prisoner confesses the crime he is accused of, and is punished.

To remark, to observe. We remark, in the way of attention, in order to remember; we observe, in the way of examination, in order to judge. A traveller remarks the most striking objects he sees; a general observes all the motions of his enemy.

Equivocal, Ambiguous. An Equivocal Expression is, one which has one sense open, and designed to be understood; another sense concealed, and understood only by the person who uses it. An Ambiguous Expression is, one which has apparently two senses, and leaves us at a loss which of them to give it. An Equivocal Expression is used with an intention to deceive; an Ambiguous one, when it is used with design, is, with an intention not to give full information. An honest man will never employ an equivocal expression; a confused man may often utter ambiguous ones, without any design. I shall give only one instance more.

With, by. Both these particles express the connexion between some instrument, or means of effecting an end, and the agent who employs it; but with, expresses a more close and immediate connexion; by, a more remote one. We kill a man with a sword; he dies by violence. The criminal is bound with ropes by the executioner. The proper distinction in the use of these particles, is elegantly marked in a passage of Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland. When one of the old Scottish kings was making an inquiry into the tenure by which his nobles held their lands, they started up, and drew their swords: "By these," said they, "we acquired our lands, and with these we will defend them." By these we acquired our lands;" signifies the more remote means of acquisition by force and martial deed; and "with these we will defend them;" signifies the immediate direct instrument, the sword, which they would employ in their defence.

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These are instances of words in our language, which, by careless writers, are apt to be employed as perfectly synonymous, and yet are not so. Their significations approach, but are not precisely the same. The more the distinction in the meaning of such words is weighed, and attended to, the more clearly and forcibly shall we speak or write.*

* In French, there is a very useful treatise on the subject, the Abbé Girard's Synonymes François, in which he has made a large collection of such apparent Synonymes in the Language, and shown, with much accuracy, the difference in their signification. It is to be wished, that some such work were undertaken for our tongue, and executed with equal taste and judgment. Nothing would contribute more to precise and elegant writing. In the mean time, this French treatise may be perused with considerable profit. It will accustom persons to weigh, with attention, the force of words; and will suggest several distinctions between synonymous terms in our own language, analogous to those which he has pointed out in the French; and accordingly, several of the instances above given were suggested by the work of this author.

From all that has been said on this head, it will now appear, that, in order to write or speak with Precision, two things are especially requisite; one, that an author's own ideas be clear and distinct; and the other, that he have an exact and full comprehension of the force of those words which he employs. Natural genius is here required; labour and attention still more. Dean Swift is one of the authors in our language, most distinguished for Precision of Style. In his writings we seldom or never find vague expressions, and synonymous words, carelessly thrown together. His meaning is always clear, and strongly marked.

I had occasion to observe before, that, though all subjects of writing or discourse demand Perspicuity, yet all do not require the same degree of that exact Precision, which I have endeavoured to explain. It is, indeed, in every sort of writing, a great beauty to have, at least, some measure of precision, in distinction from that loose profusion of words which imprints no clear idea on the reader's mind. But we must, at the same time, be on our guard, lest too great a study of Precision, especially in subjects where it is not strictly requisite, betray us into a dry and barren Style; lest, from the desire of pruning too closely, we retrench all copiousness and ornament. Some degree of this failing may, perhaps, be remarked in Dean Swift's serious works. Attentive only to exhibit his ideas clear and exact, resting wholly on his sense and distinctness, he appears to reject disdainfully, all embellishment; which, on some occasions, may be thought to render his manner somewhat hard and dry. To unite Copiousness and Precision, to be flowing and graceful, and at the same time, correct and exact in the choice of every word, is, no doubt, one of the highest and most difficult attainments in writing. Some kinds of composition may require more of Copiousness and Ornament; others, more of Precision and Accuracy; nay, in the same composition, the different parts of it may demand a proper variation of manner. But we must study never to sacrifice, totally, any one of these qualities to the other; and by a proper management, both of them may be made fully consistent, if our own ideas be precise, and our knowledge and stock of words be, at the same time, extensive.

LECTURE XI.

STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES.

HAVING begun to treat of Style, in the last lecture, I considered its fundamental quality, Perspicuity. What I have said of this relates chiefly to the choice of words. From Words I proceed to sentences; and as, in all writing and discourse, the proper composition and structure of sentences is of the highest

importance, I shall treat of this fully. Though Perspicuity be the general head under which I, at present, consider language, I shall not confine myself to this quality alone, in Sentences, but shall inquire also, what is requisite for their Grace and Beauty: that I may bring together, under one view, all that seems necessary to be attended to, in the construction and arrangement of words in a Sentence.

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It is not easy to give an exact definition of a Sentence, or Period, farther, than as it always implies some one complete proposition or enunciation of thought. Aristotle's definition is, in the main, a good one: “ Λεξις έχουσα αρχην και τελευτην καθ' αυτην, και μέγεθος ευσύνοπτον:” “ A form of speech which hath a beginning and an end within itself, and is of such a length, as to be easily comprehended at once." This, however, admits of a great latitude. For a Sentence, or Period, consists always of component parts which are called its members; and as these members may be either few or many, and may be connected in several different ways, the same thought, or mental proposition, may often be either brought into one sentence, or split into two or three, without the material breach of any rule.

The first variety that occurs in the consideration of sentences, is the distinction of long and short ones. The precise length of sentences, as to the number of words, or the number of members, which may enter into them, cannot be ascertained by any definite measure. At the same time it is obvious, there may be an extreme on either side. Sentences, immoderately long, and consisting of too many members, always transgress some one or other of the rules which I shall mention soon, as necessary to be observed in every good sentence. In discourses that are to be spoken, regard must be had to the easiness of pronunciation, which is not consistent with too long periods. In compositions where pronunciation has no place, still, however, by using long periods too frequently, an author overloads the reader's ear, and fatigues his attention. For long periods require, evidently, more attention than short ones, in order to perceive clearly the connexion of the several parts, and to take in the whole at one view. At the same time there may be an excess in too many short sentences also; by which the sense is split and broken, the connexion of thought weakened, and the memory burdened, by presenting to it a long succession of minute objects. With regard to the length and construction of sentences, the French critics make a very just distinction of Style, into Style Periodique, and Style Coupé. The Style Periodique is, where the sentences are composed of several members linked together, and hanging upon one another, so that the sense of the whole is not brought out till the close. This is the most pompous, musical, and oratorical manner of composing; as in the following sentences of Sir William Temple: "If you look about you, and consider the lives of others, as well as your own; if you think

how few are born with honour, and how many die without name or children; how little beauty we see, and how few friends we hear of; how many diseases, and how much poverty there is in the world; you will fall down upon your knees, and instead of repining at one affliction, will admire so many blessings which you have received from the hand of God." (Letter to Lady Essex). Cicero abounds with sentences constructed after this

manner.

The Style Coupé is, where the sense is formed into short independent propositions, each complete within itself; as in the following of Mr. Pope: "I confess, it was want of consideration that made me an author. I writ, because it amused me. I corrected, because it was as pleasant to me to correct as to write. I published, because I was told I might please such as it was a credit to please." (Preface to his Works). This is very much the French method of writing; and always suits gay and easy subjects. The Style Periodique gives an air of gravity and dignity to composition. The Style Coupé is more lively and striking. According to the nature of the composition, therefore, and the general character it ought to bear, the one or other may be predominant. But, in almost every kind of composition, the great rule is to intermix them. For the ear tires of either of them when too long continued: whereas, by a proper mixture of long and short periods, the ear is gratified, and a certain sprightliness is joined with majesty in our Style. "Non semper" (says Cicero, describing, very expressively, these two different kinds of Styles, of which I have been speaking), "non semper utendum est perpetuitate, et quasi conversione verborum; sed sæpe carpenda membris minutioribus oratio est."*

This variety is of so great consequence, that it must be studied, not only in the succession of long and short sentences, but in the structure of our sentences also. A train of Sentences, constructed in the same manner, and with the same number of members, whether long or short, should never be allowed to succeed one another. However musical each of them may be, it has a better effect to introduce even a discord, than to cloy the ear with the repetition of similar sounds: for, nothing is so tiresome as perpetual uniformity. In this article of the construction and distribution of his sentences, Lord Shaftesbury has

shown great art. In the last lecture, I observed, that he is often guilty of sacrificing precision of style to pomp of expression; and that there runs through his whole manner a stiffness and affectation, which render him very unfit to be considered as a general model. But, as his ear was fine, and as he was extremely attentive to every thing that is elegant, he has studied the proper intermixture of long and short sentences, with variety and harmony in their structure, more than any other

"It is not proper always to employ a continued train, and a sort of regular compass of phrases; but style ought to be often broken down into smaller members."

English author: and for this part of composition he deserves

attention.

From these general observations, let us now descend to a more particular consideration of the qualities that are required to make a sentence perfect. So much depends upon the proper construction of sentences, that in every sort of composition, we cannot be too strict in our attentions to it. For, be the subject what it will, if the Sentences be constructed in a clumsy, perplexed, or feeble manner, it is impossible that a work, composed of such sentences, can be read with pleasure, or even with profit. Whereas, by giving attention to the rules which relate to this part of Style, we acquire the habit of expressing ourselves with perspicuity and elegance; and if a disorder chance to arise in some of our Sentences, we immediately see where it lies, and are able to rectify it.*

The properties most essential to a perfect sentence, seem to me the four following: 1. Clearness and Precision. 2. Unity. 3. Strength. 4. Harmony. Each of these I shall illustrate separately, and at some length.

The first is, Clearness and Precision. The least failure here, the least degree of ambiguity, which leaves the mind in any sort of suspense as to the meaning, ought to be avoided with the greatest care; nor is it so easy a matter to keep always clear of this, as one might, at first, imagine. Ambiguity arises from two causes; either from a wrong choice of words, or a wrong collocation of them. Of the choice of words, as far as regards Perspicuity, I treated fully in the last lecture. Of the colloca

tion of them I am now to treat. The first thing to be studied here, is to observe exactly the rules of grammar, as far as these can guide us. But as the grammar of our Language is not extensive, there may often be an ambiguous collocation of words, where there is no transgression of any grammatical rule. The relations which the words, or members of a period, bear to one another, cannot be pointed out in English, as in the Greek or Latin, by means of termination; it is ascertained only by the position in which they stand. Hence, a capital rule in the arrangement of sentences is, that the words or members most nearly related, should be placed in the sentence, as near to each other as possible; so as to make their mutual relation clearly appear. This is a rule not always observed, even by good writers, as strictly as it ought to be. It will be necessary to

On the Structure of Sentences, the ancients appear to have bestowed a great deal of attention and care. The Treatise of Demetrius Phalereus, Tepi Epμnveias, abounds with observations upon the choice and collocation of words, carried to such a degree of nicety, as would frequently seem to us minute. The Treatise of Dionysius of Halicarnassus, epi ovvdrowe ovoμarw, is more masterly; but is chiefly confined to the musical structure of Periods; a subject, for which the Greek Language afforded much more assistance to their writers than our tongue admits. On the arrangement of words, in English Sentences, the eighteenth chapter of Lord Kaims's Elements of Criticism ought to be consulted; and also, the 2nd Volume of Dr. Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric.