marked in a passage of Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland. When one of the old Scotish kings was making an enquiry into the tenure by which his nobles held their lands, they started up, and drawing their swords, "By these," said they, "we acquired our lands, and with these we will defend them.". The following instances will further exemplify the distinction. "He was killed by a stone which fell from the steeple.” "He was killed with a stone by Peter." Here with refers to the instrument, and by to the agent.

CHAP. VI.

OF THE STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES.

Or a sentence or period, various definitions have been given. According to Aristotle, it is " a quantity of sound which bears a certain signification according to its combination, and of which some detached part is also significant."* Against this definition some objections might perhaps be urged; it is however sufficient for our present purpose.

A sentence always implies some one complete proposition, or enunciation of thought; but every sentence does not confine itself to a single proposition.

A sentence consists of component parts, which are

# Λόγος δὲ ἐστι φωνή σημαντική κατά συνθήκην, ἧς τῶν μερῶν τι σημαντικόν ἐστι κεχωρισμένον. Aristoteles de Interpretatione, cap. iv.) See likewise his treatise De Poetica, p. 72. edit. Tyrwhitt.

called its members; and as those 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 compressed into one sentence, or distributed into two or three, without the material breach of any rule.

Upon surveying the annals of past ages, it seems that the greatest geniuses have been subject to this historical darkness; as is evident in those great lights of antiquity, Homer and Euclid, whose writings indeed enrich mankind with perpetual stores of knowledge and delight; but whose lives are for the most part concealed in impenetrable oblivion.-Taylor's Life of Orpheus.

The same meaning may thus be expressed in three sentences: "Upon surveying the annals of past ages, it seems that the greatest geniuses have been subject to this historical darkness. This is evidently the case with regard to those great lights of antiquity, Homer and Euclid. The writings of these illustrious authors enrich mankind with perpetual stores of knowledge and delight; but their lives are for the most part concealed in impenetrable oblivion.”

With regard to the precise length of sentences, no positive rule can be laid down; in this particular the writer must always be regulated by his own taste. A short period is lively and familiar; a long period, requiring more attention, makes an impression grave and solemn. There may be an extreme on either side.*

A series of short periods produces a very disagreeable effect in poetry. The subsequent quotations will justify this assertion. Nor in the field of war

The Greeks excel by discipline alone,

But from their manners. Grant thy ear, O king,

By means of too many short sentences, the sense is divided and broken, the connexion of thought weakened, and the memory burdened, by being presented with a long succession of minute objects; and, on the other hand, by the too frequent use of long periods, an author overloads the reader's ear and fatigues his attention. In general, a writer ought to study a due mixture of long and short periods, which prevents an irksome uniformity, and entertains the mind with a variety of impressions. Long sentences cannot be properly introduced till the reader's attention is completely engaged: they ought never to be placed at the beginning of discourses of any description.

The French critics make a proper distribution of style into the two general classes of périodique and coupé. In the style périodique, the sentences are

The diff'rence learn of Grecian bands, and thine.
The flow'r, the bulwark of thy pow'rful host
Are mercenaries. These are canton'd round
Thy provinces. No fertile field demands
Their painful hand to turn the fallow glebe.
Them to the noon-day toil no harvest calls.
The stubborn oak along the mountain's brow
Sinks not beneath their stroke. With careful eyes
They mark not how the flocks or heifers feed.

So saying they approach'd

The gate. The centinel, soon as he heard
Thitherward footsteps, with uplifted lance

Challenged the darkling travellers. At their voice,
He draws the strong bolts back, and painful turns
The massy entrance. To the careful chiefs

To them

They pass. At midnight of their extreme state
Counselling they sat, serious and stern.
Conrade. Assembled warriors! &c.

Southey.

Glover.

composed of several members linked together, and depending upon each other, so that the sense is not completely unfolded till the close.

Something of a doubtful mist still hangs over these Highland traditions; nor can it be entirely dispelled by the most ingenious researches of modern criticism; but if we could with safety indulge the pleasing supposition that Fingal lived, and that Ossian sung, the striking contrast of the situation and manners of the contending nations might amuse a philosophic mind. The parallel would be little to the advantage of the more civilized people, if we compared the unrelenting revenge of Severus with the generous clemency of Fingal; the timid and brutal cruelty of Caracalla, with the bravery, the tenderness, the elegant genius of Ossian; the mercenary chiefs who, from motives of fear or interest, served under the imperial standard, with the freeborn warriors who started to arms at the voice of the king of Morven; if, in a word, we contemplated the untutored Caledonians, glowing with the warm virtues of nature, and the degenerate Romans, polluted with the mean vices of wealth and slavery.-Gibbon's Hist. of the Roman Empire.

It is well known that constitutions framed for the preservation of liberty, must consist of many parts; and that senates, popular assemblies, courts of justice, magistrates of different orders, must combine to balance each other, while they exercise, sustain or check, the executive power. If any part is struck out, the fabric must totter or fall; if any member is remiss, the others must encroach. In assemblies constituted by men of different talents, habits, and apprehensions, it were something more than human that could make them agree in every point of importance; having different opinions and views, it were want of integrity to abstain from disputes: our very praise of unanimity, therefore, is to be considered as a danger to liberty. We wish for it at the hazard of taking in its place the remissness of men grown indifferent to the public; the venality of those who have sold the rights of their country; or the servility of others, who give implicit obedience to a leader, by whom their minds are subdued. The love of the public, and respect to its laws, are the points on which mankind are bound to agree; but if, in matters of controversy, the sense of any individual or party is invariably pursued, the cause of freedom is already betrayed.-Ferguson's Hist. of Civil Society.

This is the more pompous, musical, and oratorical mode of composition.

In the style coupé, the sense is expressed in short independent propositions, each complete within itself.

The women, in their turn, learned to be more vain, more gay, and more alluring. They grew studious to please and to conquer. They lost somewhat of the intrepidity and fierceness which before were characteristic of them. They were to affect a delicacy, and a weakness. Their education was to be an object of greater atten. tion and care. A finer sense of beauty was to arise. They were to abandon all employments which hurt the shape and deform the body. They were to exert a fancy in dress and ornament. They were to be more secluded from observation. A greater play was to be given to sentiment and anticipation. Greater reserve was to accompany the commerce of the sexes. Modesty was to take the alarm sooner. Gallantry, in all its fashions, and in all its charms, was to unfold itself.—Stuart's View of Society.

But how can these considerations consist with pride and insolence, which are repugnant to every social and virtuous sentiment? Do you, proud man! look back with complacency on the illustrious merits of your ancestors? Show yourself worthy of them by imitating their virtues, and disgrace not the name you bear by a conduct unbecoming a man. Were your progenitors such as you are fond to represent them, be assured that, if they rose from the grave, they would be ashamed of you. If they resembled yourself, you have no reason to boast of them, and wisdom will dictate to you to cultivate those manners which alone can dignify your family. Nothing can be conceived more inconsistent than to exult in illustrious ancestry, and to do what must disgrace it, than to mention with ostentation the distinguished merits of progenitors, and to exhibit a melancholy contrast to them in character. Will you maintain that, because your forefathers were good and brave men, you are authorised to abandon the pursuit of all that is decent and respectable? For, to this sentiment, the pride of family, whenever it forms a characteristical feature, never fails to lead the mind. In a word, considered in its specific nature, and carried to its utmost extent, it lays down this maxim, "That ancestry gives a right to dishonour and degrade itself."