'Whether we consider his peculiar significancy of expression, or the points of his style; the sweetness of his lyric, or the ease and perspicuity of his moral poems; the sportive severity of his satire, or his talents in wit and humour, Dryden, in point of genius, seems to bear a closer affinity to Horace than to any other ancient or modern author.'

In loose sentences there will always be at least one place before the end, at which, if we stop, the words already written will form complete and independent sense; as, 'They next erected a crucifix, and, prostrating themselves before it, returned thanks to God for conducting their voyage to such a happy issue.' Here, if we stop at the word 'crucifix,' the sense is perfect in itself. In a period the members depend on each other. In a loose sentence the former members do not, of necessity, depend on the latter, whereas the latter wholly depend on the former. Both these forms of sentence have their advantages and disadvantages. The period would appear the more artificial, and the loose sentence the more natural, form of expression. But that style is undoubtedly the best which has a fair admixture of both. Perhaps, in more elevated subjects, where dignity is required, the period should be more frequently introduced; and the loose sentence is better adapted to familiar subjects, such as essays, letters, &c.

Here follow some examples of loose sentences:

'When a writer has distinguished himself in his studied performances, and delighted us in those works which he intended for our perusal, we become interested in all that concerns him, and wish to be acquainted with his ideas as they flowed, without any

view to their publication, in the open communications of a private and friendly correspondence.'

The first and fundamental requisite of epistolary writing is to be natural and simple, for a stiff and laboured manner is as bad in a letter as it is in conversation.'

'I consider a generous mind as the noblest work of the creation, and am persuaded that wherever it resides no real merit can be wanting.'

'The most fertile and populous provinces were converted into deserts, in which were scattered the ruins of villages and cities that afforded shelter to a few miserable inhabitants, whom chance had saved, or the sword of the enemy, wearied with destroying, had spared.'

'It was his [Addison's] principal endeavour to avoid all harshness and severity of diction: he is therefore sometimes verbose in his transitions and connections, and sometimes descends too much to the language of conversation; yet, if his language had been less idiomatical, it might have lost somewhat of its genuine Anglicism.'

Of these two styles, the periodical and the loose, the following passages are examples :—

had

'The ambitious spirit of Galerius was scarcely reconciled to the disappointment of his views upon the Gallic provinces, before the unexpected loss of Italy wounded his pride, as well as power, in a still more sensible part. The long absence of the emperors filled Rome with discontent and indignation; and the people gradually discovered that the preference given to Nicomedia and Milan was not to be ascribed to the particular inclination of Diocletian, but to the

permanent form of government which he had instituted. It was in vain that, a few months after his abdication, his successors dedicated, under his name, those magnificent baths, whose ruins still supply the ground, as well as the materials, for so many churches and convents. The tranquillity of these elegant recesses of ease and luxury was disturbed by the impatient murmurs of the Romans, and a report was insensibly circulated that the sums expended in erecting those buildings would soon be required at their hands. About that time, the avarice of Galerius, or perhaps the exigencies of the State, had induced him to make a very strict and rigorous inquisition into the property of his subjects, for the purpose of a general taxation, both on their lands and on their persons. A very minute survey appears to have been taken of their real estates; and whenever there was the slightest suspicion of concealment, torture was very freely employed to obtain a sincere declaration of their personal wealth. The privileges which had exalted Italy above the rank of the provinces were no longer regarded; and the officers of the revenue already began to number the Roman people, and to settle the proportion of the new taxes. Even when the spirit of freedom had been utterly extinguished, the tamest subjects have sometimes ventured to resist an unprecedented invasion of their property; but on this occasion the injury was aggravated by the insult, and the sense of private interest was quickened by that of national honour.'

In this passage the sentences generally exceed the ordinary length. Several of them are periods, and the others, though loose sentences, are more than

usually clothed with circumstances. The whole style is lofty and dignified, and is admirably adapted to the importance of the subject.

'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 attention 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.'

This way of writing is better suited to gay and sprightly subjects. It moves rapidly, and has more vivacity of expression than one in which the period prevails. But, as before said, that style is the best, in this respect, in which both forms are judiciously mixed together.

We shall now proceed to consider, in detail, the qualities essential to a perfect sentence. These are unity, strength, and harmony.

UNITY IN SENTENCES.

It has been laid down as a principle, that, in every performance of art, the mind should be able to perceive the relation between the whole thing, taken as one,

and the various parts of which it is composed; and that without this relation the work is deficient in unity. We see a want of unity in the case of those mythological or imaginary beings frequently represented by painters-such as centaurs, satyrs, mermaids, angels, &c. There is no natural connection between the body of a horse and the head of a man ; and therefore a painting of a centaur shocks both the sense and taste of the spectator. This principle of unity is applicable to composition, which is governed by the same laws as any other art; and in single sentences, which are but parts of a composition, we naturally expect to find it.

1. Every sentence should consist of one leading proposition, together with, when expedient, its attendant propositions or circumstances. But incongruous ideas should never be pressed together into one sentence. Things which have no connection in nature should not be put together in art; and thoughts that are different from each other should be expressed in different sentences. Some examples of a violation of this rule here follow

'In this uneasy state, both of private and public life, Cicero was oppressed by a new and cruel affliction, the death of his beloved Tullia, which happened soon after her divorce from Dolabella, whose manners and humours were entirely disagreeable to her.'

If the author had closed his sentence with the word 'Dolabella,' no defect of unity would have appeared. The main proposition is concerning Cicero's affliction at his daughter's death, and the time at which this took place is, naturally enough, added to it. But the effect is spoiled by the allusion to Dolabella's character,