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clauses "probably" and "in the same production," limit the general assertion, which might, otherwise, be false, or doubtful.

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At this man's table I enjoyed many chearful and instructive hours, with companions such as are not often found; with one who has lengthened, and one who has gladdened life; with Dr. James, whose skill in physick will be long remembered; and with David Garrick, whom I hoped to have gratified with this character of our common friend: but what are the hopes of man! I am disappointed by that stroke of death, which has eclipsed the gaiety of nations, and impoverished the stock of harmless pleasure."

The skeleton of the preceding paragraph is, merely, "I dined at this man's table with Dr. James and David Garrick;" but the structure is completed by the ideas which that remembrance suggests. Every portion of a sentence that can be transferred to another place, without injury to the construction, may be considered as a clause and marked off by points accordingly; but this is not always done, for the best writers often unite two or more clauses to avoid what is termed 'too close pointing.' In the preceding example, the first clause may be divided into two, by placing a comma after the word table;' and we might, therefore, write,

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At this man's table, I enjoyed many chearful and instructive hours,' &c.

'I enjoyed many chearful and instructive hours, at this man's table,' &c. Or,

'I enjoyed, at this man's table, many chearful and instructive hours,' &c.

It is not pretended that either of these transmutations would improve the style, (for who will pretend to polish the periods of Dr. Johnson?) but the observation is equally applicable to examples of a less perfect kind.

The BREAK (-) is a mark of recent introduction, and is now, perhaps, often used unnecessarily. It intimates an unexpected interruption to the flow of thought, whether from extraneous circumstances, or a change of mind. Goldsmith's "Gift to Iris" is a playful example: the following, is in a different strain.

"Sweet bud of Spring! how frail thy transient bloom; "Fine film," she cried, "of nature's fairest loom! "Soon beauty fades upon its damask throne !"Unconscious of the worm that mined her own! -Pale are those lips where soft caresses hung, Wan the warm check, and mute the tender tongue; Cold rests that feeling heart on Derwent's shore, And those love-lighted eyeballs roll no more!"

The DASH (-) because it is also a line, is sometimes confounded with the Break. It

denotes the omission of a word, or part of a word; and, instead of being always a straight line, is occasionally made up of ASTERISKS * * * * ); as if filling the place of the suppressed letters. These marks are seldom, if ever, seen in respectable Composition: they are meant to insinuate what the author is either afraid or ashamed to write.

There are other marks, such as the HYPHEN; the APOSTROPHE; the CARET; the ACCENT, &c. but these are the province of the printer rather than of the author; and, besides, are explained sufficiently in every Spelling Book.

Next to the separation of the words themselves, nothing is so necessary to fix the signification of a passage as punctuation; and, notwithstanding, there is no part of composition so shamefully neglected. Few, even among professed authors, pay any attention to the subject, but send their manuscripts to the press, without comma or semicolon, leaving those little matters to the judgment of the compositor. Yet, the misplacing of a single comma is often fatal to the intended meaning of the sentence; and, if it is not nonsense already, it has every chance of becoming so. The late Mr. Sharpe committed a strange blunder of this kind, when he wrote the following under the likeness of his patron saint:

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Believing Richard Brothers to be a prophet sent, by God I have engraved his portrait."

Had he removed the comma two words forward, the assertion would have been different. Literary men are well aware of the ambiguities in the text of ancient authors, arising from this source; and Dr. Hunter's famous Editions of the Latin Classics, owe the greatest part of their merit to his corrections of punctuation.

Let us suppose that Thomson had been indolent enough to have sent his verses to the printer without points. We shall suppose, too, that the printers of those days were as capable of distinguishing the members of a sentence as they are now; and, with these qualifications, we will imagine the reader of proofs set down to his task, and endeavouring to scan the following lines:

“Come gentle spring ethereal mildness come

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And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud
While music wakes around veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses on our plains descend."

The first hesitation will be, whether spring' and mildness' are the same, or two different personifications; but this knot can be cut, if it cannot be untied; for the verb come,' will

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apply in either case. Ethereal,' too, as far as construction is concerned, may be either an epithet of spring,' or of 'mildness;' but he will probably discover that 'ethereal mildness' is equivalent to a mild æther,' or, otherwise, a soft atmosphere.' His next doubt, if he be wise enough to doubt, will be-who it is that is "veil❜d in a shower of shadowing roses." To be sure spring,' as well as mildness,' is requested to come "from the bosom of a dropping cloud,"— but neither of them require a "Veil;" whereas, Music is always "veil'd," she is heard, but never seen. The Revise is sent to be wrought off in the following plausible form:

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"Come, gentle Spring, ethereal Mildness come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While Music wakes around veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend."

But the author meant otherwise, and by merely shifting the place of a comma, and changing two of the capitals into small letters, he made "Spring" the sole personage in his picture:

"Come, gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend."

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